Every Step Is For You
by TickleTheToast
Summary: Gwevin oneshots. Kevin has changed so much, it seems. But can he really be trusted? Trusted as a comrade, as a friend, or even something more? Rated T just in case.
1. Every Step Is For You

**AN: **A Gwevin one-shot, set in between the first two series. I know, I know, everyone and their funny uncle has written one of these…so sue me.

**Disclaimer:** No, but seriously, don't sue me. Ben 10 belongs to Cartoon Network, Man of Action and all those jazzy folks out in California, and I'm getting nothing but cheap thrills and a sense of accomplishment from this Fanfiction.

Without further ado…

**Every Step Is For You**

* * *

Sometimes, it was amazing how one little thing could alter the course of an entire lifetime.

It was three weeks until Gwen Tennyson's fifteenth birthday. Most teenagers would be excited, but she wasn't feeling too strongly about it. It wasn't as if she dreaded the day, but Gwen shared her birthday with her idiot cousin, Ben, so it had never really been **her** day.

It had been nearly four years since Ben took off the Omnitrix. Ever since, Gwen had been refining and strengthening her powers, and she was fairly good with them now if she did say so herself. The color of her magic had changed, though, something she didn't quite understand.

From the blue it used to be, the light that surrounded her hands and shone in the shields she created gradually began to redden. It was a red-violet color now, and Gwen rather liked it.

Her magic wasn't the only thing that changed. Gwen had gotten taller, of course, having hit puberty, and had budded in the obvious places. Her orange hair had smoothed and darkened, falling in sleek layers past her shoulders. She still wore the blue bobby pin she loved often, and was wearing it now as she walked the streets of her hometown.

Bellwood. Gwen had lived here her entire life, in the same house, save the extremely eventful summer in the Rustbucket. It was a memory she could smile at, now. That summer had been…everything.

A discovery of life beyond their world, and the surprising connections they had with them. Aliens really existed, would you believe it? And Grandpa Max was a Plumber, which turned out was much more than an oversized pipe-cleaner who displayed his crack proudly above the seam of his pants.

They had all been through so much, her and Ben. They were literally heroes. But Gwen liked to think that all those intergalactic enemies, near-death experiences, sacrifices, and battles had changed them both for the better.

Gwen pulled her coat tighter around her as the cold November winds caught up to her. The light the morning sun brought was pale and watery, providing little warmth even as it beat upon her back.

It was 7:30 am Saturday and normally quite an unusual time for a fourteen-year-old girl to be up and about. For Gwen, it was completely standard. She was just on an early-morning smoothie run for Ben.

Now, normally, Gwen would never walk to Mr. Smoothy's at seven in the morning to pay for a strange concoction of flavors in a cup for her annoying cousin. But there **was **a reason he was at her house and not his.

Ben's dog, Captain, died yesterday. Despite him and Gwen's love-hate relationship, she cared about him. And he had definitely cared about that dog. Ben was asleep in her living room this very moment, his own bed – and his own house – too filled with Captain's memory and chew marks and fur. Literally.

A smoothie was just what Ben needed; at least that's what Gwen had decided.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. Mr. Smoothy's was only a few blocks away. All Gwen had to do was walk there, order the strangest thing she could think of to go, and walk back. Simple, on paper.

But nothing was ever simple for the Tennysons.

* * *

She was almost at her destination, walking assuredly along the frozen sidewalk, when Gwen's eyes suddenly flashed red-violet. The young teenager stopped short, blinking until her eyes returned to their normal emerald hue.

Her powers were still developing, and she wasn't sure how accurate they were, but Gwen swore there was a powerful energy source nearby.

Previously hugging herself to keep warm, Gwen let her arms drop and held them out as if she was feeling her way through the dark. Invisible energy crackled against her fingertips, leading the way.

Gwen shuffled along the sidewalk with her eyes half-closed, looking quite odd indeed with her hands stretched out and her blue scarf slipping from her shoulders.

The source was like a beacon, and Gwen was its humble disciple.

Gwen whipped her head around, orange hair following in a graceful arc, as the signal cried out, stronger now. Towering above in all its menacing, dilapidated glory, she found the old warehouse where Cash and JT hung out. She didn't know what it used to be, and had never step foot inside – it was probably fraught with spiders – but the building had been there for as long as she could remember.

Gwen frowned. _What are those two doing in there that would ping me?_

It was only supposed to be a quick look. She was just curious, and had plenty of time to bet back before Ben woke up. Gwen would wonder, months and years later, what would have happened had she gone ahead to Mr. Smoothy's without that detour.

Finding a broken window without too many jagged edges, Gwen hoisted herself up onto the sill and swung her legs inside the dark fortress.

It was almost as cold inside the warehouse as it was outside, and Gwen shivered as her boots touched down on the cold concrete.

The smell of rusted metal and gasoline filled the air, prompting the petite ginger to hold her scarf over her mouth and nose with a grimace. Her nose wrinkled in distaste as her gaze flicked around, taking in her surroundings.

It was junk.

The abandoned factory was little more than a pile of scrap metal. There were a few old-fashioned machines scattered around that Gwen supposed had a purpose once, but now were barely even recognizable under years of rust and graffiti. Among piles of trash and rubble, dark stains that Gwen desperately hoped were water coated half the floor. Flimsy metal stairways stood against the wall, more than one of them broken, lying on its side like a kicked puppy.

Beyond one of the emaciated staircases that were actually upright and vaguely operational was a hallway that she couldn't see the end of. A pale – but ever-strengthening – reddish light was pulsing from within, throwing the beginnings of a demonic shadow across the vestibule.

Gwen started up the stairs without a second thought. She was positive that whatever was making that light was also what had been sending her signals.

She gripped the rickety banister tightly, feeling the rust scrape against her skin as she ascended. Her boots clanged against the metal with each step no matter how carefully she placed her feet, making her cringe and slowing her climb. Chunks of concrete had been captured from the walls at several intervals, leaving gaping holes with exposed copper skeletons and rats munching on the remnants of a candy bar.

Gwen had to suppress a squeal when her eyes found the shifty little animal, and she covered her mouth with her hands to stifle the noise that surely would have given her away to whoever it was that was here. She hoped, for the first time in her life, that it was just Cash and JT.

As it was, the rat squeaked loudly in her place, skittering off with a lump of caramel and chocolate clenched in its dirty teeth.

Gwen hesitated a moment more – she told herself it was because she wanted to see if anyone came to investigate the noise, not that she was afraid of rats or anything – before navigating through the stinking wreckage toward the light at the end of the tunnel.

_No pun intended._

Gwen crept down the hallway, keeping low as the unearthly light continued to glow and shine from around the corner. Energy buzzed in her brain, the pulsating rhythm comparable to a gong being hammered at the plate of her skull. She was close.

Gwen daringly stuck her head out from beyond the wall, cracking open her eyes to see what there was to be seen. Her jaw dropped.

A Null Void generator.

Gwen still recognized the horrible machine, after all this time. It threw a large red rune into midair, spinning it hypnotically and spending enough energy to put a wormhole through to the pocket dimension that housed the galaxy's most dangerous criminals; a desolate place known fondly as the Null Void.

Gwen had the pleasure of visiting the prison in person several years back. She wasn't excited to return.

Just when the redhead began to wonder what this generator was doing in Bellwood, years after all the alien nonsense had seemed to stop, she spotted movement in the dim lighting beyond the barrel of the machine.

Two of Vilgax's robots. One was tapping something out on a display panel with its metallic fingers, and the other was doing nothing but standing. Standing in that creepy, stock-still way that only robots could.

Gwen's heart sank to the bottom of her shoes. They had to be attempting to bring Vilgax out. Maybe he had programmed some for this special mission as a precaution, or maybe there was someone on his side here, in Bellwood. Gwen's hands began to shake with the thought.

She thought all this was over. Vilgax had been sent to another dimension; it _should_ have been over!

_If he came back…Ben! I have to get Grandpa Max; he'll know what to do!_

In the back of her mind, Gwen knew she would never be able to get all the way to the Rust Bucket and back before Vilgax came through to their world. Then it really would be over. Maybe she wanted an excuse to leave, but fate had other plans.

As Gwen shuffled backward, keeping an eye on the androids while making her semi-stealthy escape, her heel hit a crumpled can of beer – God, she hoped it didn't belong to Cash – sending it skittering across the concrete with a more than audible clatter.

Simultaneously, the robots' heads swung abruptly in her direction, twin flashes of their computerized eyes confirming that they had sighted her. The scarlet light of the portal shone against the metal of their bodies, giving both a satanic appearance.

If possible, Gwen's heart sunk even lower. _Crap!_

There was a flash of light and metal, and the first of them was upon her. Snapping mechanical fingers reached out to snatch her, and Gwen took a chance. She ducked quickly, rolling her slim frame between the android's legs – scraping her knee in the process, but avoiding the metal digits completely. _Thank you, Tai-Kwan-Do!_

Unfortunately, her showy dodge had positioned the robot between her and the only way out. Gwen cursed silently. She would have to fight them; and Ben wasn't here with the Omnitrix to help her this time. She wasn't at all helpless, but wasn't sure how confident she should be in her abilities; whether in magic or in combat.

By the time Gwen had found her feet again, the robot had turned around, empty eyes boring into hers as if it could consciously see her. The girl had braced herself for a new attack, purplish light pluming around her hands, when she was grabbed suddenly from behind.

Gwen was suddenly crushed against a hard, steel chest, those ugly green tentacles squishing against the back of her head.

_No! I forgot about the other one!_ She struggled fiercely, but was no match for its motorized strength. And every time she managed to gain a centimeter of space, it was squeezed away from her.

Gwen's vision began to blur and spot, her lungs constricted by the brute arms that held her. She was getting dizzy, and saw through half-lidded eyes the other automaton advancing toward her.

If she was defeated here, Vilgax would be released from the Null Void.

_Ben…Grandpa…Everyone…_

She couldn't let that happen.

Salvaging her strength, magic curled around Gwen's fingers once more, charging up in her palms, which pressed flat against the belly of the robot that held her.

"Let go…or else!" Gwen's voice was strained, and she had to take an extra breath to spit it all out. But the point was clear. The robot didn't oblige, of course, but it bought her the time she needed.

Her nails scraped against the metal, which heated slightly at her energized touch.

_I warned you!_

When the energy was let loose, a small explosion was the result. Small, but enough to send the android flying across the room. Mechanical arms dropped Gwen with a metallic screech as its body was blown backward, twin handprints scorched into its belly. It smashed backside into the wall, wiring ripping loose as it crumpled to the floor. The occasional spark flashed, but there was no movement from the pile of scrap.

This time, Gwen didn't allow herself to be distracted. Barely stopping to catch her breath, she let loose a similar bolt of magic at the other robot, which it received with a sickening – but satisfying – crunch. It smashed into the generator, flipping over it with enough momentum to knock it completely off balance.

The portal tossed upside down as the generator did, beginning to falter in its swirl. The wormhole was breaking up. Gwen sank to her knees with liberation, finally taking a moment to clutch her bruised ribs and take deep breaths through her mouth.

_I did it… _She wasn't sure whether to be more surprised or relieved.

But the action was far from over.

The Null Void portal began to morph, the sickly light strengthening for just a moment as a new energy came into being. Something was coming through.

Gwen's head snapped up, alarm pulsing in her wide green eyes as she feared the worst. Had she been too late?

An arm, thick with muscle and riddled with cuts and bruises, worked its way through the center of the gateway, palm up.

_They must be coming in upside-down…_ Gwen thought in a side note. Funny, the things your mind comes up with while you're scared out of your mind.

Gwen probably should have run, right then and there. But two things stopped her. One: The portal was between her and the door. And two: The arm looked human.

It wasn't Vilgax coming through, but the thought brought little comfort to the reedy teenager sitting on the floor.

The pale appendage was quickly followed by a twin, then a head and a pair of broad shoulders. It was like watching a baby being born. A very large, terrifying baby.

A thick chest and long legs quickly followed, and Gwen found her assumption was correct. Whoever this was, he thought gravity went the other way.

The moment the man was through, he crashed hard onto his back with a deep grunt of surprise, and a smacking sound filled the room as his head slapped the concrete.

"Ow! Dammit!"

Not the words Gwen was expecting to hear first-thing from a Null Void convict. Something like 'I shall rule the planet Earth!' or 'Where is the Omnitrix?' was what she was used to.

To the left, the portal flickered, and then died. The red light faded, to be replaced by diluted sunlight that filtered far too cheerfully through the window.

This…person – Gwen wasn't yet convinced to call him human – clutched the back of his head in pain, sitting up to grumble to himself.

Now that she got a good look at his face, Gwen realized he was younger than she had first thought. Older than her, definitely, but a teenager all the same.

He was tall and powerfully built, with pale skin that was blemished with unhealed cuts and purple bruises. His pitch-black hair fell past his shoulders, dirty and rumpled from years without proper care. Sharp, dark eyes perched under a furrowed brow, and on either side of a hooked nose. His mouth was a grim slash over a prominent chin, pulling a deep frown as he inspected the damage to his head. He was almost completely naked, much to Gwen's discomfort. He didn't even have any shoes on. Just a pair of dirty grey cargo shorts that looked like they had once been stretched past their limits.

He looked familiar, strange as it sounds, but Gwen couldn't place who he was. She felt like she should remember, though. That for some reason, it was important.

Finally, the boy noticed her. His eyes met hers, matte black in the poor light. A deep scratch on his right cheekbone was still leaking blood, trickling down to his chin without notice. He didn't make a particularly menacing face, spout death threats, and it wasn't that he was at all bad-looking, but Gwen had to catch her breath. She sat up straighter and steadied herself, trying to look brave and unintimidated.

Was it just her, or did she see a flash of recognition in those dark eyes of his?

"Well, well, well," He voiced suddenly, bass tones echoing in the concrete room. A smirk pulled at his lips, a smug, feral look that Gwen had seen far too many times. A sharp pang, memories of that one crazy summer, flashed before her eyes.

New York City.

A broken game at the arcade.

Herself, berating an unusual Heatblast.

Heartbreaking screams of fury and pain from atop a cable bridge.

A fight at a wind farm.

Mismatched arms gripping her body with frightening strength.

Leaving that jumbled mutant behind in the Null Void.

It was Kevin.

Panic coursed through Gwen's system. The psychotic kid with a taste for Ben's blood was back. In Bellwood. Alone with her in an abandoned warehouse. While Ben slept ignorantly on her couch, probably drooling on the cushions that she had helped her mom pick out.

"Look who's here," Gwen had been so focused on her resurfacing memories and quelling her fear that she hadn't noticed that Kevin – _Kevin! _– was still talking. "It's the sister."

He was staring at her with those dark eyes - darker than they used to be, she noticed; maybe it meant he was even eviler now – and that mischievous smirk that looked like a kid about to sneak a cookie from the jar. Except the cookie was probably her.

Forcing her voice not to shake, Gwen responded as haughtily as she could. "Cousin. And my name is Gwen." She realized that he had probably never known that. If he had paid enough attention during all the battles, he might have figured it out, but she doubted that.

She probably should have wondered why Kevin was human again. The last time she saw him – _it sounds so innocent, doesn't it? – _he was stuck supposedly permanently as an awful amalgamation of the aliens in the watch; huge, hulking, and horrible.

Not that he wasn't all those things now, in some respect.

Kevin began to stand, and Gwen shot up from her kneeling position, feeling the need to be tall, if only for a moment. Despite herself, she felt a flash of concern as Kevin's face crumpled briefly in pain, blood dribbling wetly from a gash on his side.

Gwen probably also should have wondered why he was so beaten-up. It surely couldn't be that bad in the Null Void, especially for a lifelong criminal like him.

Kevin got to his feet, towering over her once again, his face a strange combination of curiosity and suspicion.

Gwen decided to take the initiative. For all Gwen knew, he could be heading straight for Ben. He was so vulnerable right now, asleep and broken by the death of a friend.

"You're not going to hurt Ben! I won't let you!" She called her magic for effect, and enjoyed a moment of satisfaction at the surprise that flared in his features when the light surrounded her raised fists.

The fulfillment was crushed, however, as Kevin rolled his eyes.

"Relax, drama queen. I'm not gonna hunt down your precious cousin." He spat bitterly, managing to sound condescending even as he lifted her spirits. It was probably the fault of his New York brogue.

But Ben's safety wasn't the only issue. Kevin was a raving, sociopathic, criminally insane lunatic with superpowers and more than ample knowledge of the alien world. No way was he just going to sip spiced tea and read Jane Austen novels for the rest of his life.

Gwen's eyes narrowed and she didn't lower her glowing fists. She hoped that Kevin didn't realize how inexperienced her magic was, how tired she felt, how much her ribs still hurt, how easily he could overpower her physically, or the fact that the door was literally right behind him.

"So what are you going to do? Rob a preschool?"

Kevin laughed, something she didn't expect. She caught the ring of mockery in his tone, however, and tightened the reign on her powers, strengthening the energy and the glow.

He stopped laughing, and Gwen realized that the glare had never left his eyes; like it was permanently engraved there.

He sneered at her derisively, an expression that wasn't pretty on any face. "None of your business," was his cold response. Outside, a cloud shifted in front of the sun, throwing the room into sudden shadow and chill. Kevin's shady eyes disappeared in the darkness beneath his raven hair.

Gwen shivered, not just from the cold.

"It is my business," she pressed, stepping closer. "It's my responsibility to keep Ben and everyone else safe from freaks like you!"

At the word 'freak', something haunted blazed in Kevin's eyes, lighting up the dark hues with tones of brown and gold. He suddenly looked ten times more terrifying.

Gwen swallowed, her magic flickering with sudden uncertainty. She had to remember that Kevin wasn't so human like her. Gwen had never believed he was evil, but that didn't mean he wasn't still a heartless monster who would attack her just for saying the wrong words.

The battered teen didn't say anything. He just stared at her with blistering, untamed fury. Fury she didn't understand.

Then Kevin turned, stepping over the crumpled body of Vilgax's robot without comment and pacing out of the open doorway, bare feet slapping on the pavement with no effort to stifle the clamor.

Frustration licking up her insides like fire, Gwen followed, stomping and angry. He was halfway down the hallway already, shoulders square and hands curled into tight fists, silhouetted in the pastel light.

Gwen swept her arms toward him, magic crackling on her fingertips and extending outward in a red-violet arc. The partition of pure energy stretched past Kevin's retreating form, wrapping tightly around him and throwing him flipside against the wall.

Kevin looked as surprised as Gwen felt. _That was new…_

The redheaded girl drew herself up, strolling toward the captured boy with a stern look on her face. That impressive move had left her feeling smug, but she schooled her features as if this was an everyday thing. She kept herself concentrated on the bindings, willing them to stay strong.

Kevin struggled uselessly, throwing her dirty looks from beneath his dense bangs. "You can't keep me here forever," he hissed, only his head and right hand visible under the wall of magic.

Gwen knew he was right. Already her arms were beginning to ache with the effort of keeping up the magic field. It would hold for a few more minutes, at the most.

"I can hold you for as long as it takes," she replied, impressed at the strength and determination in her voice as she stepped close, staring him down. Gwen was nothing if not headstrong. "I can't just let you go free. You're a criminal!"

Kevin scowled, fidgeting in his bonds. "Come on, what did I ever do to you?"

"You kidnapped me and tried to kill my cousin!"

"Oh, are you still upset about that?" He curled his lip, voice as dry as Death Valley.

Gwen gnashed her teeth. As demented as she remembered Kevin being, she had forgotten how cynical and mockingly sarcastic he also was.

"…I'm going to find my mom, okay?"

Gwen started, her furious look fading as she gazed up at Kevin. He was staring at a point past her head, stubbornly refusing to meet her eyes. His bloody face was set in a grimace, almost looking embarrassed for having said anything.

"Your…mom?" Gwen repeated, both surprised and confused. For some reason, she believed him. Even Kevin couldn't lie so well. Could he? "But I thought–"

"I **told** you it was none of your business!" Kevin shot back abruptly. He struggled once more, and, admittedly with the help of Gwen's divided concentration, broke through the magical barrier.

It shattered like tinted glass, falling earthward before fading like smoke, and so did the light surrounding Gwen's hands.

Startled, she fell backward, stumbling as vertigo wracked her mind. Something warm closed around her wrist, keeping her on her feet.

Gwen looked up, meeting Kevin's smoldering gaze. His large, pale hand was clasping onto her, pulling her upright in a startling and rare moment of kindness.

But why? It was so random.

Why would a guy who was willing to waste his life hunting someone, destroying himself physically and emotionally in the process, instinctively stoop to help up a tripping stranger?

This wasn't the scrawny street rat she met all those years ago; the one who was willing to kill hundreds of innocent people to make a quick buck, and blame someone else for all the misfortune he had brought on himself.

Gwen wondered if maybe, just maybe, Kevin had changed. She had heard of people that reformed themselves in prison; maybe the Null Void had done the same for him?

Old Kevin would have attacked her on sight, but this Kevin…something was different.

He was very close; uncomfortably close. Her fingers brushed against his bare cest the moment she tried to move them in his iron grip, and she could feel his hot breath on her throat. Goosebumps were prickling on her arms, sending a chilling shudder down her spine that didn't have anything to do with the cold of the November morning. Gwen didn't move. She doubted that she could.

Kevin was deadly serious, staring deep into Gwen's emerald hues. It almost seemed as if he was looking for something; he didn't seem willing to break their intense contact.

His eyes were deep and dark, the kind one could find themselves lost inside in an instant, no matter the circumstances. Gwen fell prey to his stare like a deer in headlights, unable to move. Unable to speak.

Something flashed through his eyes, then, something sudden. And as Gwen caught it, she could see it was soft. It was melancholy, in a way; something she knew was unnatural in him. She had no idea eyes could be so expressive. For a moment, she managed to break through all of the arrogance and anger he surrounded himself with and expose the humanity dwelling in the deep centers of his eyes.

And the sight of it sent tremors through the girl. She felt, somehow, that he could see right through her. What he was looking for, she was afraid to know. The emotion she had caught lingering in the labyrinth of his gaze was too strange to place.

It wasn't kindness, she knew. Kevin wasn't kind. But maybe, just maybe, he could be?

"I'm not going to go looking for Tennyson," Kevin stated suddenly, and the moment was shattered.

Gwen blinked, the spell broken with his voice. She was almost angry at herself for letting it go on for so long. Kevin appeared to have a similar state of mind, the way he had so suddenly spoken.

Gwen remembered with a start that she was supposed to be questioning him. She opened her mouth to cough up a retort, but he wasn't finished.

"But if he comes after me, or gets in my way at all," Kevin's grip tightened on her wrist, as if to emphasize his point. It kind of hurt, but Gwen held her ground with a determined set to her jaw.

Kevin continued with a sneer, "Then I won't hold back."

* * *

Kevin had left shortly after that, without further explanation or time for any more questioning, leaving Gwen alone in the warehouse.

She wasn't sure what to make of his last statement. What would Ben do if he knew Kevin was back? Go after him?

_That would be just like the stupid kind of bravado that boys come up with._

Without the Omnitrix, her cousin would be toast, and Kevin would be the toaster.

She frowned at the analogy. If the situation wasn't so serious, the image in her head would be downright comical.

Gwen decided it would be better not to tell Ben for now, especially not while he's so depressed. If Kevin started stirring up trouble in Bellwood, then she could bring up the subject.

Gwen destroyed the Null Void generator, making sure it couldn't be used again. She had no desire to see anyone – or anything – come in or out of there ever again.

She walked the streets again now, heading across the Mr. Smoothy's parking lot as if nothing had ever happened. It felt strange, somehow. Her thoughts, however, were still trained on the boy who crossed dimensions today.

_Has he really changed? Is his word worth anything? Will he really stay away from Ben?_

Gwen stepped up to the back of the line, emerald eyes glazed over in contemplation.

Kevin was certainly different than the one she remembered; in more than his physical appearance. He still wasn't nice, considerate, or caring in any respect, but she suspected that he had picked up some sanity in the Null Void, at the least.

Maybe, deep down under all the psychotic inclinations and the insensible violence, he was a good person.

The Old Kevin would have spent those years plotting and obsessing.

The Old Kevin would probably have kidnapped her again as bait for Ben.

The Old Kevin wouldn't have cared about reconciling with his mother.

But what would New Kevin do? She didn't know him well enough to guess. If he had wanted to, Gwen was sure he could have killed her or taken her as ransom easily enough, and gone on to a defenseless Ben.

So why didn't he?

"Next!" It was Gwen's turn to order. She rested her elbows distractedly on the counter, ordering a cinnamon-strawberry-swiss-mocha smoothie with ginger and kiwi. The staff gave her a weird look, but obliged. It wasn't the weirdest thing Ben had ever ordered.

_I hope I wasn't tricked. Kevin really has changed; I have to believe that._

"That will be $6.95, Miss."

_He's changed for the better. _

Gwen reached into her back pocket, searching for her wallet. It wasn't there. Eyes widening, she checked the other. Nothing.

Her wallet was gone.

Kevin hadn't changed at all.

* * *

**AN: **And there it be! Before anyone says anything, yes, I know that Gwen's powers are called 'manna', but at this point she still thinks that it's magic. So tell me what you think, but I really don't appreciate flames. Honestly, I think this was pretty good for my first published story, and I'm usually really bad at one-shots. But I'm not getting cocky... I always worry too much about feedback.

Over 5000 words!

Read and Review, please! ^^


	2. Picking Up the Pieces

**AN: **I realize from the first reviews that there was a bit of confusion about the mention of Every Step For You becoming a series. What I meant was, a series of oneshots. (smacks self) The explanation has been altered. But it got me thinking, and you could consider this chapter as a sequel to the first. Kevin meets his mother for the first time after leaving the Null Void. A little insight into my version of his past, as well.

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, I don't own any of this. Not even Wal-Mart. I get no profit. -.-

**Every Step Is For You**

**Chapter 2: Picking Up the Pieces**

* * *

It was too bright; that was Kevin's first thought as he stepped out of the metalloid warehouse.

For the past several years – how long had it been? He'd lost track of petty things like time long ago – Kevin had been trapped in the Null Void, a desolate pocket dimension reserved for the most dangerous, infamous, and insane intergalactic criminals. He'd been condemned at age eleven.

The Void was all rock, chill, and darkness. Kevin had almost forgotten what the sun looked like. Even the pale light of a winter morning caused him to wince and retreat back to the doorway.

Kevin raised a forearm to block his eyes, squeezing the offended organs tightly shut. _It's only light,_ he chastised himself. _Grit and bear it, like everything else._

He stepped out into the sunlight slowly, eyelids fluttering like a camera shutter, as if reloading. Maybe he was. Everything seemed to glow, as if there was a flashlight held underneath. A passerby gave him a disgusted look – what was a bloody, half-naked kid doing standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that?

Even after so many years, Kevin still recognized his hometown. This was where he was born, where he took his first steps, back when he still had a family. Back when things were…good. When his dad was still around. When he wasn't a freak.

And then it hit him, all at once.

He was back.

There would be no more barren cliffs and unfamiliar aliens thirsty for blood and flesh. No more fighting day in and day out, just for a few extra hours of life. He could live, really live.

If it were anyone else, they wouldn't be able to hold back the flood of tears that threatened him then. But this was Kevin Levin, and Kevin Levin didn't cry.

He just tightened his jaw and his fists, closing his eyes briefly and took a deep breath through his nose.

After a few moments, he started walking down the sidewalk, partly of fear of running into that girl again.

Yes, he knew her name. She was Gwen. But somehow, it felt strange to call her so informally, even in his mind. It wasn't like they were friends or anything.

But he wondered if she was the one who set him free.

She was there; it was possible. Probably not on purpose, considering the look on her face when he popped through.

'Popped' was the gentlest term he could think of. Going through an interdimentional wormhole was less like a playground tunnel, and more like being squeezed involuntarily through a cat flap. A rusted, metal cat flap that hadn't been used in a hundred years.

But what would she have to gain from letting him, or anyone, out? _Maybe one of her friends is trapped there._

And then Kevin had a crazy thought, one that made him want to slap himself for its sheer insanity.

For a split second, among the hundreds of other thoughts that flew through a person's mind in that amount of time, he wondered if he could thank her by going back to fetch whomever she had lost.

Kevin shook his head with a scowl, continuing along the sidewalk with perhaps a bit less spring in his step. Like he could ever do something like that. Or would.

* * *

He wasn't completely ignorant of the stares he was receiving as he trudged aimlessly on the sidewalk. The murmurings weren't completely inaudible, either. It was as if a giant purple platypus waddled in his place, the looks people gave him.

As Kevin passed the reflective window of a 'mom and pop' – style bookstore, he caught a glimpse of his current physical state. _Oh._

Three words came to mind: Dirty, bloody, and barely dressed.

Okay, so that was four words, but there were three thoughts.

Also, it was cold. _What month is it?_ Kevin wondered silently, breath filming in clouds around his head. He shivered.

So Kevin went to Wal-Mart.

* * *

Apparently, the 'No shirt, no shoes, no service' policy was only applicable if the manager could actually force you out of the store. Kevin grabbed a simple black tee and jeans from the sale rack, and a pair of shoes that looked durable.

Of course, it would be impossible for Kevin to have any money, wouldn't it? The Null Void isn't exactly full of executives.

From the least-ripped pocket of his cargo shorts, Kevin pulled out a small, blue, zipper wallet. A cartoon cat was printed on the side, staring with sightless pale eyes. Gwen's wallet.

Did Kevin feel guilty for pick-pocketing her out of instinct? Not really. He needed it more than she did, right? And it wasn't as if she had much more than fifty bucks in there.

_Though I could've just as easily stolen these,_ he thought glumly as he advanced to the 10 Items or Less lane, looking at the small bundle under his arm.

But hey, he already had her wallet. Maybe he would've felt guilty if he didn't actually use the money. Maybe.

The clerk actually hesitated before ringing him up. She looked like she was about to go for something under the counter. Mace? Alert button? Flare gun? Kevin had no idea.

But she passed the clothes under the scanner and gave him his total, all without the usual fake cheeriness and interest in your life that Wal-Mart clerks usually caked their job with.

Though she was more than likely surprised when he just handed her the money and took his bag, she hid it well.

"Thank you for coming to Wal-Mart." She tittered after him.

* * *

Physically, Kevin was feeling better than he had in years. The difference of having clean clothes – even if he was still dirty and unshaven – was almost as rejuvenating as when he had retained his human form.

It had happened rather gradually, that. One day, his Vulpimancer arms started to shrink, and it became harder and harder to fly. Kevin 11 was fading. Then, eventually, he was just…Kevin. Just like that.

Alien puberty, he supposed. One of the 'nicer' inmates had called him an Osmosian somewhere along the way, the fact of his alien heritage something Kevin had slowly grown to accept. It was a lot easier than being a human.

In this world, he was a freak. But if he could believe he was an alien, and not just nature's defective mistake, his powers were easier to deal with. He could be normal in the alien world.

But he was in the mortal world again, he realized. Things weren't going to be the same anymore. Again, he would have to pretend to be human and normal. No more absorbing rocks and punching some lights out just for kicks.

Oh yeah, he could do that. Energy wasn't the only source of his power, he'd discovered in the Null Void after getting his body back. Besides, after what the Omnitrix had turned him into…Kevin wasn't going to be absorbing energy ever again.

Not if he could help it.

Suddenly, Kevin stopped.

He wasn't sure why. The tall teen glared down at his feet, as if they were simply refusing to work. Then he looked up, and realized why his body had halted.

Kevin hadn't been lying when he told Gwen he was going to see his mother, just exaggerating a bit. He'd planned to **eventually** get around to passing by his old house, **maybe** peeking in a window. He doubted she even still lived there.

But there it was. Across the street sat the small, one-story house he had lived in, the paint on the front porch fresh, instead of peeling; the yard even and weedless. There was even a plant box under the front window. Kevin might as well have not recognized it at all. It was obvious the person living there was not his depressed, listless mother.

He tore his gaze from the house, looking again at his feet, feeling torn. A network of cracks in the sidewalk skittered past his toes, forming an arrow that pointed toward his childhood home. He remembered walking home from school, how he would always stop right here to cross the street. He'd never taken even one step past it.

Kevin turned to the right, facing the house, and stepped out into the street. The small, pattering footsteps of a Kevin from a lifetime away seemed almost visible in the asphalt, and he watched with mixed feelings as he stomped over them in his heavy gait. His feet were a lot bigger now, for sure.

He must have blinked a little too much, because one moment Kevin was traipsing across the street, and the next he was standing on the front porch with his fist raised, as if he was going to knock on the door. He pulled his hand down abruptly, a sudden panic flooding his system.

_What am I doing? _Kevin stared with wide eyes at the wooden door, memories of reaching up to turn the knob with tiny hands flashing in the back of his mind._ Mom is long gone, and I don't want to see her anyway. She loved Dad more than she ever loved me. She wouldn't want to see her criminal son, either. She's probably forgotten all about me by now…_

Kevin's thoughts managed to get off track, and while he pondered about his mother, the door to the old house opened. Kevin froze, catapulting from the recesses of his mind to fully recognize the person at the door.

It was, of course, Janet Levin.

She froze, too, when she saw him, keys in hand. Her black hair hung straight and shiny down her shoulders, sharp bangs falling just above her eyebrows. She was paler than Kevin, with round, dark eyes like a doe. Even now, she looked tired and sad, like the feelings were simply a part of her.

But no flood of recognition swept over her features; instead, a look both confused and wary knit her eyebrows together, and she took half a step back from the unkempt young man on her porch.

"May I help you?" Her rusty, quiet voice hadn't changed. The hand holding her keys remained in front of her, the pointed end of the key aimed at Kevin.

_Does she think I'm here to rob her? _He didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. He had been forgotten, after all.

For some reason unable to meet her gaze, Kevin opted to stare at the doorframe. Yeah, the doorframe was interesting. Brown. "Uhhh…I'm…I mean…" he stuttered, mind gone completely blank. He squeezed his eyes shut, searching for something, anything else to say.

_What can I say? "Hey, Mom! It's me, Kevin! Wow, I haven't seen you since child services took me away; you haven't changed a bit! By the way, I'm an alien, and wanted by the intergalactic police"? I've got zero social skills, and even I know that sounds lame!_

But he didn't seem to have needed to say anything at all.

"…Devin…?"

_Devin? Is that…?_ Kevin looked up sharply, forgetting his concerns about meeting her eyes. Simply put, she looked…shocked. Horrified, even, as if he had risen from the dead… Who was Devin?

Her keys clattered to the floor, a whoosh of air escaping from her lips as she met the deep brown eyes of her son, identical to hers. "No…Kevin?"

Kevin swallowed, suddenly at a total loss. His palms were sweaty. "Hey…Mom." His voice was almost a whisper, uncertain and vulnerable in a way that Kevin Levin rarely was.

He'd expected a few things to happen if he ever met his mother again, pondering while he starved away under a bridge in New York City. Maybe she would slam the door in his face. Maybe she would burst into tears. Maybe she wouldn't know what to do, because she already had a new son and a husband.

He should've been expecting the sudden and heartfelt embrace, but he didn't.

Her thin arms went around his neck, pulling him down to her height with a strength that seemed impossible for her to possess. Something wet trickled down Kevin's neck; so she had burst into tears after all.

And Kevin found himself caught up in it all. He wrapped his arms around her waist, noticing with some confusion that his hands were shaking. His heart was beating right up in his throat, terrified with relief. Kevin hadn't realized how afraid he'd been to face his mother once more, scared that he would be rejected by the only family he'd ever had. And now that she'd accepted him, he felt…shaky. Uncertain. Like the situation was temporary, and any mistake on his part would shatter it.

Had she always been so small? So…frail? Kevin felt like he could crush her in his hands.

"Kevin…Kevin…my boy…my boy…Why…Oh, Kevin…I was so worried, I…" Janet sobbed into his new shirt, breath hitching and shoulders shaking. If he hadn't been holding her, she may have crumpled to the floor.

Yet Kevin, too, found it difficult to speak, and found he could do no more than apologize profusely, over and over. For everything. "I…I'm sorry Mom…I-I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

A slick tear slipped down his cheek, and it was a few moments before Kevin realized it was his own. No, Kevin Levin didn't cry. He never cried. Not on his first night out on the streets, not when he broke his arm, and definitely not now.

More tears pushed their way through his eyelashes, streaming down his face no matter how tightly he closed his eyes. It was impossible to stop, to choke them back in a fit of macho bravado.

Kevin Levin did cry, after all.

They stayed like that for who knew how long, crying and supporting each other in the doorway of the house where they had both once lived, together.

Both had been hurt and scarred, then separated with no knowledge of the others' whereabouts or well-being. Kevin never knew how much a kid needed a mother until he lost his.

So, just for today, he would be a kid again.

It was Janet who pulled back first, trails through her makeup and keys forgotten on the floor. Her hands cradled Kevin's face, such a tender gesture that it almost got Kevin crying again.

"Kevin…Where have you been? Tray and Amelia were claiming that… So many terrible stories, Kevin! Why did you run? Where did you go? Are you okay? Did anything – "

"Mom…" Kevin interrupted her. He'd never heard her sound so concerned, so mother-like. He felt ashamed, now, about all the horrible things he'd thought about her when he'd been living with Tray and Amelia, his foster parents. They hadn't exactly been able to handle his little…condition.

_So Mom had been keeping tabs on me. She didn't just forget about me._

And somehow, just the knowledge that he'd been on her mind, even just a little bit, took a huge load off Kevin's mind.

"…Later, okay? I promise I'll tell you everything, just…" he trailed off, voice raspy from – had he actually been? – crying.

"…Later." Janet finished for him.

There was a pause, and Kevin had to ask. "Who's Devin?"

A flicker of pain sparked in Janet's doe-like eyes, but was quickly replaced by something so warm and sickly sweet that Kevin had no words to try and interpret it.

"You look just like him, you know. I'll tell you later." And then she smiled, bringing her only son inside.

Kevin was going to tell her everything; absolutely everything. About his powers and life on the streets, about absorbing the Omnitrix and chasing Ben across the country, and about the Null Void and being a monster. Everything.

He didn't even feel apprehensive about it. After today's frayed emotional fibers, clearing the air could only make him feel liberated. He knew she wouldn't think badly of him. Not his mom.

_Mom. I've got a mom._

"Kevin?" Janet called softly from the kitchen, where she had been offering to make him a sandwich (Kevin eagerly accepted).

The half-Osmosian tilted his head to look at her questioningly. There was a somewhat wry look on her face, something he knew he'd never seen on her.

"Take a shower before you eat, honey."

Then Kevin found himself grinning, his first smile in who knows how long. The muscles felt stiff and unused. But he knew that he really had a mom again; a tiny family that suited him just fine.

He didn't need his dad to come back to life, a fancy house like Tray and Amelia's, or a big family like Gwen's. The simplicity of having a mother that cared seemed more than enough, and more than he deserved.

He'd been abandoned, hated, ostracized, assaulted, and on the brink of death too many times to count.

He was out of practice in being a son, but Kevin was determined to do it right. He was going to make mistakes, he knew, but that was the only way he ever learned.

He was going to make countless, stupid, massive mistakes that would get him in a lot of trouble.

Because he was Kevin Levin.

* * *

**AN: **About Kevin's mom: her name was never mentioned in the series, was it? No. But from what I remember of her from the Ragnarok episode, she seemed kinda inwardly sad and really tired-looking. Her eyes were so dull and listless…at least that's what I saw.

Also, on the 'What Does My Name Mean' app on my iPod, I discovered that Kevin is a Celtic name, and it means 'handsome'. Coincidence? I think not. It made me smile.

Today seems to be the day for obscenely long Author's Notes. I'm sorry.

P.S. Horizontal ruler wasn't working on the first upload, I've fixed it now. ^^

Read (which I'm assuming you've already done…) and Review, please!


	3. The Dos and Don'ts of Immaturity

**AN:** A quick, funny Gwevin that came to me while watching an infant struggle with the spaghetti up his nose. Don't ask. Set in Alien Force style, nearly everyone's favorite!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ben 10 or any of its affiliates; neither do I get any profit from Pepsi, Coca-Cola, or Mr. Smoothy's. Sad face.

**Every Step Is For You**

**Chapter Three: The Dos and Don'ts of Immaturity**

* * *

"Am not!"

"Are so."

"I am not!"

"Are so."

"Not."

"So!"

"Not!"

"So!"

"Not!"

"Mmmf–!"

Gwen clamped a hand over Kevin's mouth before he could speak, the air he had saved for his final 'so' ballooning in his cheeks.

They glared at each other over Gwen's outstretched arm, blazing green to smoldering brown.

Kevin's lips twitched, and a damp warmth blossomed in her palm as he mumbled into it, the muffled grunt sounding suspiciously like a 'so'.

Gwen let out a groan of revulsion, pulling her hand away and wiping the moisture of his breath off onto his tee shirt, making a face that she was clearly disgusted with him.

"I'm not playing anymore, Kevin. I mean it." She announced as she reclined into her chair once more, enunciating each word clearly to get her point across.

Kevin only shrugged, that crooked, easy grin settling on his face to show he wasn't bothered in the slightest. Because he always thought he was right.

They were sitting in Kevin's garage, as usual, Gwen in the folding chair and Kevin on the little rolling thing that he always laid on when he worked under the car (Gwen still didn't know what it was called). She had a blueberry smoothie in her hand, his cup of Pepsi overturned at her feet, the dark liquid trickling to the center of the garage, chunks of ice scattered between them.

Kevin actually preferred Coke, but Mr. Smoothy's carried Pepsi products.

"Face it, Gwen. You've got it bad." He replied easily, for once leading the conversation. Perhaps that was why Gwen was so irritated with him now; she was used to being in control, and liked to keep it that way.

She sighed wearily, closing her eyes and taking a pointedly long sip of her smoothie. The sweet taste of ice-cold blueberry was ruined by Kevin's gaze boring into the outside of her eyelids; she didn't need to see him to know he was there, that was for sure.

When she finally parted her lips from the straw, she set the cup down and crossed her arms and legs simultaneously. The picture of a woman in charge. "Can't you just let it go?"

"Not until you admit it."

"There's nothing to admit to."

"Then why'd you spill my soda?"

Gwen took a moment to blink in surprise, before settling him with the classic 'are you stupid?' look she wore so well.

"That's why you're being so adamant about this? Because I spilled your Pepsi?" she asked him, in a voice dryer than the Bellwood summer outside.

Kevin opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and said nothing. For a moment, Gwen was sure she had won the argument; or whatever this was.

But there he was, always surprising her.

"…Uh, maybe. If I knew what adamant meant, I could tell ya." He looked up at her without a trace of sheepishness, running his hand through his shock of black hair.

Gwen groaned. She knew he only had an elementary school education, but seriously, **adamant**? Even Ben knew what that meant!

"Adjective, Latin origin; unyielding, obstinate, inflexible, stubborn, resolute; unable to be moved or altered. It means you're being way too persistent and you need to learn to **let things go."**

Gwen stood as she talked, gaining the higher ground again. Kevin stood, too, a chunk of ice neither of them noticed falling off his lap with a rattle, cracking in two as it hit the floor.

"Maybe you're being too defensive," he countered, taking a step closer.

Gwen matched him, stepping forward with her chin stuck in the air to better near his height. "Maybe you're just being stupid."

Kevin scowled. Another step. "Maybe I'm offended."

Step. "Maybe I don't care."

Step. "Maybe you just need to admit it."

Step. "Maybe I don't want to."

Step. "Aha! You just admitted there was something to admit!"

They were right in each other's faces now. "Kevin, that doesn't even make sense!"

"It would if you would just admit it!"

"Says the guy who can't even admit that he likes me!" Ooh, she had him now.

Kevin spluttered, a pink color that had nothing to do with the summer heat rising to his cheeks. "Th-that's not what we're talking about here, Gwen! We're talking about you – "

"I told you, I'm not!"

Silence.

Apparently, either Kevin had expected her to keep talking, or could think of nothing else to say. Either way, the arguing pair was now drenched by a blanket of zero dialogue, their faces within inches of each other in a 26x46 garage.

After a solid few minutes of continuous talking, you can imagine how awkward the situation had become for two such stubborn teenagers.

Kevin's cheeks were still flushed, and Gwen could feel the heat in hers as well, though presumably from her yelling than anything among the lines of embarrassment.

Sure, she liked him. Gwen wasn't going to lie about that; but she was no blushing, giggling preteen who would stare and drool at Kevin's biceps for three hours a day, five days a week, either. No matter how nice they were.

Finally, a catalyst dropped on the scene. The electric fan Kevin had set up in a corner of the garage kicked on, humming loudly and spinning cool air toward them both as it oscillated.

_Whirr…whirr…whirr…whirr…_

Kevin and Gwen turned their heads toward it, relaxing.

Gwen sat back on the chair, sipping her smoothie, Kevin on his wheelie bench, rolling under the green Challenger with a socket wrench.

After a minute or two of less-than-comfortable silence, Kevin emerged, a new thumb-sized blob of something on his cheek. He was grinning in a way that could only be perceived as devious.

"Are so."

Gwen rolled her eyes. Not this again. "You're so immature."

"Says the girl who just played this game five minutes ago."

"Says the guy with motor oil on his face."

Kevin frowned, wiping at the wrong cheek and glancing down at his – cleanish – hand. When that was done, he made a face at her that was certainly not mature at all.

_Whirr…whirr…whirr…whr…rr…r…tnk._

Silence.

"…Are so."

"Ugh! Fine! I'm afraid of spiders! Is it really that big of a deal?" Gwen crossed her arms, blushing – out of embarrassment, this time.

Long story short, skittering spider, stumbling Gwen, precarious Pepsi, it all ended up with Kevin's drink on the floor and a bout of his mocking laughter.

The present Kevin grinned, the triumph as clear in his eyes as the nose on his face (pretty obvious). "Nope. Just wanted to make sure you knew you owed me a Pepsi." He rolled back under the car, chuckling to himself.

And then Gwen had a choice.

She could do the mature, responsible thing by admitting that he had won this round, proclaim fear of spiders was totally rational, buy him another soda, and retain her pride as the bigger person.

Or, she could do the immature, Kevin Levin thing and empty her blueberry smoothie onto his lap.

You decide.

* * *

**AN:** Yesh, I know it's called a Creeper, but I figured Gwen wouldn't. ^^

So, which would you choose? Blueberry crotch or Ghandi philosophy? :)

Read and Review, please!


	4. Your Typical Sob Story

**AN: **This one is a bit strange. The point of view, that is. It's almost as if Kevin is just telling you a story…I don't know. Like many of my stories, it simply poured out. ^^ No Gwen in this one, I'm afraid, but I promise some fluff next chapter! ;)

**Every Step Is For You**

**Chapter Four: Your Typical Sob Story**

* * *

The first memories I have of my mother were that she was sad.

She would smile at me, sure, but it never met her eyes. It seemed like something was always sitting in the back of her mind, preventing her from being truly happy. Even when I came home from school with a gold star on my spelling homework – which was rare – her smiles were fairly forced and never showed her teeth.

She would disappear for hours without my knowing where she was, and sometimes wouldn't return until the next morning.

She would randomly start crying, for no reason that I could see. The red rims around her dark eyes ever seemed to leave.

But that was just what I remember of her. There was a time when she was happy, and she would wear pink sweaters and pull her hair up in a ponytail. I was really little then, and don't remember much of that side of my mother. The two photo albums we had were filled with pictures, mostly of me and Mom.

At first, I didn't understand. I would look at these pictures, see my mom so happy and content to just sit on the couch for hours with a baby in her lap, and see her as I knew her; broken from the inside out.

I wondered if it was my fault. Was she mad at me for breaking the window with my baseball? Maybe she didn't like the fact that I wasn't a baby anymore?

I always asked those questions to myself, and many others. I knew the real reason, of course. It would have been all too easy to blame my mother's depression on that, and leave myself blame-free. But I was a good kid; there was no way I could just hold him responsible for everything.

I wanted to – God, how I wanted to. I wanted to believe he was a bad man who had left us high and dry because he didn't care. That Mom had loved him so much that she had no room for me anymore.

My dad, of course.

I didn't remember him. Not completely, at least. From the few times Mom would talk about him, I could tell she really loved him, after all this time. She would smile, and then she would cry.

Sometimes, if I concentrated really hard, I would get the impression of his crooked smile, and the booming chuckles that were what Mom called 'contagious'. When I found out what that word meant, I had to give her statement some thought before I understood. At first, I was wondering whether it was some kind of disease.

…That was where you were supposed to laugh. But it's why I couldn't make him the bad guy. I knew he loved us, me and Mom.

My dad, Devin Levin, is – **was **a Plumber. I'm not talking about the fat, hairy guys that don't seem to know what a belt is; I'm talking about the intergalactic police force.

He would always be called away for business on another planet, often gone for months on end. And one day, he just didn't come back.

I do remember the man who came to tell us the news. Hearing of your father's death is a pretty traumatic experience.

I know now that that man was Max Tennyson, who would in time become my enemy, my friend, and my family. I must have met him before, if he knew where we lived, but I didn't remember.

But at that time, he was just a stranger in my house who was making my mom sad.

I was only seven or eight – and at that time I had no idea that I'd inherited a somewhat unstable version of my father's powers, but I attacked him.

It wasn't as bad as it sounds. All I could really do is punch and kick at his shins and scream while he looked down at me with pity.

I called him a liar, and told him to go away and leave us alone, in so many words. Looking back now, it really seems like something I would do.

I don't know if I really expected him to oblige, but he did leave shortly after my tantrum. Max spoke a few well-meant but stereotypical condolences to my mom – "I'm very sorry, Janet" and "He died a hero" come to mind – before he turned to me, who was still fuming and glaring at him for no real reason but to be stubborn.

I don't know why this stuck out to me in such detail, or why the memory has remained so crystal clear after so many years.

Max just put his hand on my head. They were big hands, and coated in a black glove – he was still wearing his Plumbers' uniform. His watery grey eyes held no pity anymore.

Now that I think about it, his obvious pity was probably what had set me off before.

But now they were only sad. They were sad, empty, and wet with old tears. He was sad, too. He missed my dad; his sorrow was real.

In the coming years, I would come to recognize this look in my mother, but right now it was totally new, foreign. And I met it in the eyes of a stranger.

Dad was dead. And I couldn't even recall his face.

"Goodbye, Kevin."

Max's farewell cracked on the last syllable, and his hand slid from my head, black hair falling flat where it had been mussed.

I don't remember seeing Max depart, but I do remember crying.

I had never been an avid crier; even when I was still a baby. But I cried long and hard then, just sitting on the floor with my arms wrapped around my legs and fat tears falling down my cheeks.

I must have done that all night, because I woke up on the living room floor the next morning. Mom stayed in bed all day, and didn't even bother to get either of us anything to eat that entire day.

I could barely call her a mom after that. It was rare for her to be awake before noon, or make a sandwich for me. Some kind of Plumbers' widow charity must have helped us with the bills, because I don't remember her ever going to work. I had to learn to fend for myself, which would serve me well later.

Eventually, child services took me away to live with a foster family, and it was soon after that that I discovered my powers. We all know what happened after that.

I can't say I had a typical childhood, but it's made me who I am. Sometimes I wonder how my life would have turned out if my dad had returned from the battle with Ragnarok that day.

I probably would have grown up in a real family, instead of on the streets. I probably never would've become that ugly mishmash of aliens or been hurled into the Null Void.

But I probably wouldn't be the same Kevin Levin. I can't say I'm happy with my past, or I'm glad for any of it, but maybe it was fate.

As lame as that sounds, I'd like to believe it's true.

But I'll never say it out loud.

* * *

**AN: **Read and Review, please! It makes me want to write more if I know my hard work is appreciated. ^^


	5. The Point of No Return

**AN:** Chapter 5, Ultimate Alien setting. I warn you, there are…suggestive themes. :D And this is why it's T rated. I highly doubt this would warrant an M rating, but if anyone feels strongly that it should, let me know. This is my first attempt at writing anything this…intimate, and I have to say it's not my favorite. Let me know how I did.

**Disclaimer: **Seriously, I shouldn't have to do this anymore. The Ben 10 series is no more mine than Marvel Comics is. That's zero percent, by the way. Sigh…

**Every Step Is For You**

**Chapter Five: The Point of No Return**

* * *

He hovered above her, his hands sinking into the plush blue comforter. His arms were pinned on either side of her, ensuring there was no escape. But trust in saying that Gwen had no desire to go anywhere.

His lips were hot, moving against hers with little room for breath. The kisses were rough and forceful, but warm, like Kevin himself. And how Gwen loved him for that.

She clamped her hands around his broad shoulders, clutching at the dark fabric of his shirt desperately, as if it were the last tangible thing on earth.

In response, his hand moved to the small of her back, pulling her closer to him while he pressed down, one elbow on the bed keeping him upright. She was barely touching the bed anymore; held in the air by his strong arms. Kevin's tongue skittered across her bottom lip, a warning before he dove in to taste her further. He wasn't a man who asked permission.

His tongue drew slow circles on the roof of her mouth, in her cheeks, trailing fireworks and sending endless tingles of pleasure down Gwen's spine. She returned the gesture, pushing her own, smaller tongue past his, licking his upper lip gently with the tip.

Kevin's mouth vibrated suddenly against hers, humming his satisfaction as he deepened the kiss even further, their lips flush against each other and mouths wide open, tongues meeting in the middle.

Gwen inhaled sharply, arms wrapping sweetly around his neck to tangle in his long, soft hair. He shifted to rest on his other elbow, pulling back only a moment before pressing in again, the kisses so tender and full now that Gwen felt nearly faint from the distinction.

Little moans and sighs escaped her lips, landing in Kevin's mouth and swirling around before he breathed it back into her. She exhaled when he inhaled, and vice versa, in perfect harmony. His eyelashes brushed her cheeks, the tickles fading every now and again, letting her know he'd opened his eyes to look at her.

Kevin tasted like coffee and hot chocolate, surely due to the empty cappuccino cups in the trash can. His hands roamed, trailing heat where they touched her skin as he slowly moved up her back, underneath her blouse.

Gwen's heart was beating like a hummingbird's, pangs of excitement shooting through her whole body, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

It was around this time that their lovers' play had turned to something much more pressing.

As if a switch had been flicked somewhere in their minds, every move became suddenly more urgent, needy.

Kevin pulled her tighter to him, her skirt riding up farther and farther with each passing moment. His lips were quicker, his hands rougher, grinding persistently against her thigh.

Gwen's hands gripped his hair, his neck, his collar, roaming around as their heads turned and turned, determined to kiss every cell of each other's mouths. Her fingers slipped into his tee shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it on the floor.

Fresh air spilled into Gwen's lungs at last, her head flopping back against the comforter for some much needed air. Her hands traced the solid contours of Kevin's chest and stomach, shivering as he bent over her, kissing her lips once before trailing down her jawline.

Kevin didn't hesitate a second, running his teeth teasingly over her throat before sucking heartily at the alabaster skin, no doubt preparing more of those embarrassing purple bruises. Gwen's breaths were no less than gasps of pleasure at this point. She was sure his name escaped her lips at one point, feeling him smirk against her skin.

Her hands still positioned there, she felt the muscles in his chest flex as his arms slipped back under her.

A pressure, one around her chest that she had become so accustomed to that she never even felt it there anymore, was released with a sudden snap, and Kevin's hot hands moved again to compensate, even as his lips trailed further and further south.

Gwen wasn't going to deny how amazing she felt right now – how her entire body felt like a livewire, powered by the generator that was Kevin Levin, so very listlessly relaxed and energetically vigilant at the same time. But with the insane mix of emotions came an undeniable pulse of pure terror and panic.

How far was Kevin going to go? Could she stop him? …Did she want to?

Gwen wasn't stupid, one of those vapid girls who got caught up in the action and did things they regretted in the morning. She knew the consequences, and she had assumed he did as well. It wasn't like she was on birth control or anything.

And if she decided to pull away before they got any farther, what would that say to Kevin? As if she didn't trust him to know when to stop, when to draw the line, most likely. At what point would she need to? She trusted him; more than anyone else in the world. She knew that if it was to be with anyone, it would be him. But this was a huge step. Huge. Magnanimous. And she was seventeen, he was eighteen; it would also be illegal.

But, the last time she checked, Kevin paid little mind to what was illegal and what wasn't.

Kevin murmured into her skin, oblivious to her worrisome thoughts, his hot breath rushing over her sensitive spot and sending a not-too-innocent and mind-numbing shudder through her body.

Surely, feeling this good couldn't be wrong? Maybe nothing would go wrong; maybe she could just let him take over, give Kevin the reigns for once and let him lead her to wherever they went next. Maybe –

_Ding-dong._

Saved by the bell. The doorbell, that is. Gwen's eyes flew open, craning her neck to look out of her open bedroom door. Kevin took advantage of this, roving down toward the opened first button of her blouse.

"Wait…Kevin…" She was discomfited to find that her voice was little more than a strained little whisper.

"Hmmm…?" he hummed against her collarbone, a deep rumble going through his chest at the sound.

Gwen cleared her throat, making a half-assed attempt to wriggle free. "Someone…someone's at the door…"

Kevin's hands caressed her, in a surprisingly gentle way, making her want to stay all the more. "They're just gonna hafta wait," he responded matter-of-factly, voice equally husky and edgy as hers.

_Ding-dong._

Gwen squirmed, an involuntary movement that Kevin took as another escape attempt.

"Please…Kevin…it could be important…" Her mind was clearing; she was scared. What was she doing? This was probably the most irresponsible thing she'd ever done; with or without Kevin.

Gwen pushed against his chest, what would've been a futile attempt if he hadn't complied.

Kevin, with obvious reluctance, sat up on his knees, letting Gwen go free. She scrambled up quickly, jumping at the opportunity to smooth out her blouse and re-snap her bra. There would be no hope for her hair at this point.

_Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong._

Gwen glanced back at Kevin, wondering if he was mad. He was looking back, completely red-faced with a sulky expression. Dark hair sticking out at odd angles, he was hunched over uncomfortably amidst her rumpled sheets. She could guess why, and was sure her face was equally tomato-like as she raced to the front door.

For once, she was glad that Ben had decided to stage an impromptu movie night for the sake of her flatscreen TV. The three spent the rest of the day in the Tennyson living room, watching Hulk and both Iron Man movies, followed by the SpiderMan trilogy which Gwen fell asleep to, sometime between the second and third fight scene. She had never understood her cousin's strange fascination with Marvel heroes.

Kevin said very little to her after she ran out on him, but he never let go of her hand.

* * *

**AN:** I love Stan Lee. The ending was a bit abrupt, but I wasn't sure how to close that one up. Review, please! It makes me fuzzy inside, even if you just say one or two horribly misspelled words!


	6. Put Aside But Not Forgotten

**AN:** Ever wonder what happened to the lock that 11-year-old Kevin hung around his neck? I do. Here's my answer. Alien Force setting. A special early update in celebration of my birthday. ^^

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Ben 10. I love Home Depot and give them money all the time, but not using fanfictions, sorry.

**Every Step Is For You**

**Put Aside but Not Forgotten**

* * *

_I stood by my cousin, Grandpa Max on his other side, staring down at the lapping waves against the shore. Besides the wind over the face of the river, there was no movement. Nothing to suggest that there was anything below the surface. No bubbles, no passing shadows, no footprints, no patchwork alien head gasping for air._

_Dead silence. _

"_Looks we got him," Ben noted, crossing his skinny arms over his chest. He wasn't smiling, though, which was unusual in the face of victory. Maybe he felt bad about it, since Kevin's fall from the bridge had been his doing in the first place._

_Swimming with haunted regret, Ben's eyes told the real story. He was only a kid; we both were. None of our alien battles had resulted in death before, and Ben didn't have the stomach for it. _

_Was it murder or suicide? Maybe the police would call it an unfortunate accident. Or maybe they wouldn't call it anything; Kevin wasn't human anymore._

_That scream still echoed in my mind, so clearly that I glanced around more than once, to see if that boy was nearby. Not his scream from the fall; no, he hadn't made a sound then. It was that undeniably heart-wrenching, dreadful scream of rage and pain that stuck so stubbornly in my ears._

_I'd been on the ground, barely close enough to see, but the morph of his voice and the violent transformation was impossible to miss. Glancing up toward the lights of the workmen repairing the site, the scene flooded back in an all-too-familiar way. I shut my eyes tight, wrapping my arms around my torso in a comforting way._

_I felt bad for him, I'll admit. Even if he was a criminal who nearly coerced Ben into a life of thievery and murder, even if he was relentless in his plot of revenge, he didn't deserve this. No one did._

_It wasn't until I saw Grandpa Max's hand go to Ben's shoulder did I realize my eyes had drifted back open._

"_Ben," Grandpa Max began in his pleasant baritone. "There was nothing you could've done. It's not your fault. That boy brought it on himself."_

_Ben shrugged, uncrossing his arms slowly. He'd turned, so I couldn't see his face. "I know," was all he had to say about it. "Let's get out of here."_

_He led the way back to the waiting Rustbucket, Grandpa Max hesitating until he, too – with a hearty sigh – ambled toward the motor home._

_I moved to follow, no desire to stay at this miserable spot any longer, but stopped when my foot hit something._

_I'm not sure why I looked down, instead of moving on and thinking it was a simple rock or jetsam log. Maybe I knew it was significant, somehow. But I looked down, and there amidst the sand and debris was a glint of silver._

_Brushing a lock of windswept hair behind my ear for a better look, I stooped down on the riverside. Yup, definitely metal. Tentatively, because I had no idea what kind of microorganisms could be living in the damp driftwood and algae and emptied beer bottles that covered the beach, I brushed some of the rubble away from the strange object, only to reveal a lock. A plain, simple, steel alloy padlock._

_My eyes narrowed at its familiarity, wracking my brains for an answer. The one I got was not what I expected, recalling the same padlock bouncing against a chest swathed in wrinkled black fabric, hung around the neck of a scrawny street rat outside of an arcade in New York City._

_Kevin's necklace – it must have fallen from the bridge when he transformed, and washed up here. The string was gone; it most definitely had snapped and was lost in the currents._

"_Gwen! You coming, or what?" Ben's voice startled me from my thoughts, leaning from the passenger window of the Rustbucket with an irritated – but relatively mild – look on his face._

"_Coming!" Without a second thought, I pocketed the padlock and jogged back to my family. We left Los Angeles, and I didn't give the trinket a second thought._

* * *

_Five years later…_

I'd never had that dream before, and wasn't sure why it was now that I remembered that day.

The padlock sat idly in my hand, perfectly innocent. There was no evidence to reveal how it had drowned, who it had been possessed by, what it had gone through to pass from hand to hand.

I didn't even have a key.

With my other hand, I rubbed the smooth metal between my fingers. There was a little dent in the bottom right corner (or bottom left; it really depended on how you held it), bending the shine that my fluorescent lights cast over its surface.

A mystery, that's what it was. That's what **he **was. An enigma, a riddle, the one question that I doubted there would ever be an answer to. The one puzzle I had yet to finish.

"And you're sitting in the middle of the floor because…?" a trailing question, in a voice I knew all too well, sounded from behind me, sending a jolt of panic up my spine. I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts that I hadn't even sensed the boys approaching.

Hiding the padlock securely in my fist, I turned my head around toward my doorway.

My cousin, Ben, was standing there, leaning against the doorframe casually with a smug grin on his face, his favorite green jacket present over his shoulders.

Kevin stood behind him, a looming shadow barely visible in the dark hallway beyond the bright confounds of my room.

"I didn't know you guys were stopping by," I said, standing up slowly and shoving my fist inconspicuously behind my back. With my other hand, I grasped at my elbow from behind my back, trying to pull off a more natural-looking stance.

"Did you get a tip?" I was hoping the visit was alien-related, so any strangeness from me would be pushed aside for the sake of the mission.

Ben seemed fooled, or at least not suspicious, for he just sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "All work, no play…Well, Gwen…I'm sorry to disappoint you, but, see, my dad and his poker buddies are hogging the TV in my living room, and since you have HD…" he trailed off with a little hopeful shrug of his shoulders, trusting me to make the connection.

It wasn't hard, especially when I saw the DVD case clutched in Ben's left hand; the latest mangasm movie out on DVD.

"Is it always about movies with you two?" I asked exasperatedly, despite my vulnerable position. "Why can't you watch it at Kevin's house?"

It was that boy who replied this time, leaning forward so I could see his face. It was relaxed, his eyes steady and lips almost coming up with a smile when he caught my gaze. Rather than skipping a beat, a fist tightened around my heart as that scream slashed through my mind. Sometimes, it was so hard to believe that this Kevin was the same troubled boy from all those years ago.

"Don't have a DVD player," was his answer, me having forgotten I'd even asked.

There was an audible pause, until I realized they were waiting for my response. Response to what? "Oh," was all I said.

"Is that a yes?" Ben pressed, a grin creeping across his face.

I sighed. "Yes." Anything to get them out of my hair. If I said no, Ben would just push and whine until I gave in, anyway.

"Yes!" Ben repeated, punching the air. "I'm going to go make some popcorn!" he ran back down the hall, voice trailing down the stairs.

Kevin chuckled, taking Ben's spot in propping up the wall.

I eyed him strangely; he wasn't going with Ben? I asked him as much, resisting the strong urge to cross my arms and cock my hip, which would've given away what was in my hand.

He shrugged, a cute grin tugging at the sides of his mouth. "He's gonna take a while with that popcorn," he offered for an explanation. A poor one, I thought, but I decided not to press it. His obsidian eyes were sparkling with mischief, looking at me expectantly.

It was this Kevin I liked; the friendly, open Kevin who would laugh out loud and drink blueberry smoothies and stick straws up his nose just to make me smile. I knew that if I opened my hand, that warm Kevin would disappear behind a cold iron mask.

"If you say so," I said offhandishly, scuttling back to sit on my bed, shoving the padlock under the quilt folded at its foot.

Grin fully formed, Kevin loped over to join me, propping his thick arms behind his head as he reclined against my headboard.

I stared at him for a bit, taking in his dark hair and chiseled body – Kevin was hot, I had to admit, but that wasn't the point of my scrutinization, really, it wasn't – marveling at how different he was now, how much he had changed. Both inside and out.

"So, what's-" Kevin made a sudden movement toward me, and I, lost in my thoughts, wasn't prepared to try to stop him. He reached across my lap, practically laying on it in the process, and grasped under the quilt with a laugh. "-this?"

_Crap!_

He straightened up with a smirk, the padlock in his hand, while I just looked at him with dawning horror, my hands half outstretched to take it back.

His face faltered a bit at my expression, and he looked cautiously at the object in his hand. The smirk faded, his mouth setting in a grim line.

"Kevin, I-"

"Where did you get this?" he whispered, voice tight. His eyes were down, glaring daggers at the innocent little object in his fist.

I had expected him to be upset, but not this much.

Tentatively, I reached for his hand, seeking to give him some kind of comfort. He ripped it out of my reach, however, movements almost violent. I flinched back, stung.

"Where did you get this?" he demanded again, louder, his eyes rising to meet mine. They were smoldering, angry, like igneous rock that had magma boiling just below the surface.

A few years ago, that magma would have spilled over the moment he recognized the locket. Kevin had something new: control. And that somehow made him all the more frightening.

I dropped my gaze, playing with my fingers nervously. I felt like a little kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar. "I found it by the Los Angeles River, five years ago when…you know…" I trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence. We both knew what I meant.

A heartbeat of silence, then two.

I glanced up at Kevin, finding him glaring icily at the padlock in his left hand again. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

"It was the first thing I'd ever stolen," he announced suddenly.

I blinked. The padlock?

"My foster parents dragged me to Home Depot with them, and I got bored and wandered off. It was just sitting there, and…I can't explain it, I just wanted it." His hand tightened around the padlock, as if punishing it for something it had done.

My heart was frozen in my chest; it was rare for Kevin to share things like this without me having to drag it out of him. I felt that if I moved, he would clam up again.

I don't know if my trick worked, but Kevin did keep talking.

"I just shoved it in my pocket; the scanners didn't even pick it up. It gave me a **thrill.**" He spat the word as if disgusted by it. "It got me **hooked.** I wore it around my neck like a damned trophy!"

Kevin gritted his teeth, and I watched as a silver armor slipped over the skin of his left hand. He was absorbing the metal of the padlock and, before I could say anything, he crushed it in his fist like a nut.

I couldn't explain it, but that moment hurt.

My heart wrenched, and I reached out to cover his metal fist with my hands. This time, he didn't pull away. Though he still didn't look at me and, slowly, his hand rippled into skin again, pale and warm and familiar.

"Kevin," I was impressed by the strength and determination of my voice "you've changed. You're not that person anymore. You've **changed.**" I squeezed his hand for support, staring into his wayward eyes as earnestly as possible. This was the new Kevin, the Kevin who was charming and likeable, the good Kevin that would catch me as I fell and follow his father's legacy as a Plumber.

But when he lifted his eyes to meet mine, I saw something like…contempt.

It threw me off; Kevin had never looked at me like that before.

His next words seemed much too loud, all of a sudden. Maybe because I so desperately wanted to pretend I hadn't heard.

"Is it me you're trying to convince, Gwen, or yourself?"

I was confused, shocked, and hurt. It felt like a jolt of electricity had been shot through my gut, and not in the exhilarating roller-coaster way, either.

I hated that feeling, like I was spinning out of control, but more than anything, I hated realizing that I had no answer to give him.

I actually feared he was right.

How many times, when Kevin did things I disapproved of, did I console myself with the words 'he's changed'?

How many times, when his past came back to bite us, did I use those very words to tend our wounds?

Was I only seeing what I wanted to see of Kevin Levin? Was the funny, deep, roguishly charming guy I saw him as just a romanticized version of his true nature?

I had no answer, but I'd like to say I knew him better.

My hand came up to cup his cheek, no words to contradict him coming to my lips. "I…"

Nothing. I shook my head gently, eyes pleading at him to understand. I believed in him, I wanted to say. I understood him. I trusted him. I…

His own eyes closed, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against mine in something like defeat.

For a mad moment, I thought he was going to kiss me.

But along with the distant alarm of the microwave, a gentle tinkling reached my ears as Kevin deposited the broken shards of the padlock into my palm.

"See you later," he whispered, minty breath washing over my face. The bed shifted as he got up, and I made no move to stop him when he left. There was nothing else to say; he'd said it all with the rubble in my hands.

He was only going as far as he could. There was no way to run from a past like that. All Kevin could do was keep on living and try his best to leave it behind. Old Kevin and New Kevin weren't two different people; they were the same troubled kid who lacked a proper upbringing and a caring family life.

Maybe all Kevin wanted was for me to know that. He couldn't forget his past and pretend it didn't happen; that he was born afresh and new from that Null Void portal. I'd been seeing it like that, thrusting the Old Kevin out of my mind to accept this new, brilliant guy into my life.

I couldn't do that. If I really accepted him, I had to accept all of him. Even if that meant leaving my comfort zone.

I still don't know why I kept it. Half of me, the rational half I liked to listen to most of the time, thought it would be better to throw it away; to get rid of the old Kevin permanently. But the other half gathered it all up, poured it into an empty aspirin bottle, and placed it ceremoniously on my book shelf.

Maybe I'm just nostalgic.

Or maybe the Old Kevin wasn't willing to let go just yet.

* * *

**AN:** I like Kevin's line ("Is it me you're trying to convince, or yourself?"). Is that weird for me to say about my own story? No? Cool. I'll probably use that line again if the situation for it arises, because whenever Gwen's told him 'you've changed' in the series, I've always thought that at her. It seemed like she was telling herself that as much as him.

**mangasm **[män-gah-zum],**1. **_n: _The act of being overcome with immense amounts of testosterone or feelings of bravado. **2.** _adj: _Having many male characteristics or attributes; made for the solitary enjoyment of the male sex.

REVIEW, please! I love-love getting reviews! They don't have to be long (though I adore long ones) and they don't have to be well-written (though I love them as well) but as long as you click that little teal button I will be as happy as a clam with a pearl inside! Again, I'm always taking suggestions for new oneshots, and credit will be given to where credit is due! XD


	7. The Madness Within

**AN: **_Dannamente_, I hate being right! Kevin knew what was going to happen, why did he do it anyway? To save the universe. To save Ben. To save Gwen. Such a good kid…well, it was lil' Ben's idea. I'd forgotten how annoying he was… In case you guys hadn't guessed yet, I'm venting over the Forge of Creation. If you haven't seen it yet, DO NOT READ. MAJOR SPOILERS THAT YOU DO NOT WANT. If you have seen it, relish in the angst.  
Okay, I'm not that upset that Kevin is bad again. It's not his fault, really, or his choice, and I knew it was going to happen eventually. What did upset me is how under-dramatized the whole thing was. **Maybe,** if they spent less time reflecting on **little Ben **being a **#$%&,** they would have more **time** left in the episode for the **Kevinator.** That's right. **Kevinator.  
**Kevin's POV, then Gwen's.

**Disclaimer: ***sniff* I don't own Ben 10…*sniff*…

**Every Step Is For You**

**The Madness Within**

**

* * *

**

_Kevin, flying between universes:_

I thought I was done with this.

Being a monster. Being the bad guy.

I'd been through this all before, so why is it happening again? Why did I let it?

I can still think just fine. I know that killing Aggregor would've been wrong, and I know that I shouldn't have said what I said.

Can I plead insanity?

All the bad thoughts I've ever had are on the surface; that's what being crazy is like.

Before I think that I was wrong, I know I'm always right. Before I want to apologize, I want to hurt the people who've hurt me.

It's too much…too much!

I can't handle this, I know I can't. So I don't try to.

I don't want to hurt Ben, and especially not Gwen. I don't want to make them face me, or the fact that it was wrong to trust me.

I wanted to be trusted. But I guess I'm just not worth it.

"_You're a jerk. You've always been a jerk. People try to be nice to you, but you never see it. You're too busy feeling sorry for yourself."_

I hear myself roar in anger, even though I'm alone now. Even though I'm not angry.

Nothing about this mangled body listens to me anymore, anyway.

'Stupid', 'wrong', 'selfish'; when it comes to other peoples' lives, you can spout that kind of crap as much as you want.

But whenever I'm like this…the scars from my childhood rise to the surface. The only way I can keep moving is through my anger. At my parents, at the world, at all the people who had ever done me wrong.

_Everyone hates me. I'm a freak, and no one loves a freak. I'm a monster for the third time, and my Plumber days are over. They're never coming back. They hate me. Right now, they're probably plotting to kill me. I don't deserve that. I deserve this power. Why can't they see that? This makes me happy. They should be glad for me. Thankful, even; I beat Aggregor easily. But this monstrosity of a body is Ben's fault. Again. He has to pay…he has to-_

_No!_

Before, when I was a kid, I accepted the hatred I felt. The pain, the sadness, the anger, all tossed into a pot and set to boil in my brain. It was me, and I knew that.

Now I know what I can be. I can be a guy like my dad, I can be a guy that Gwen will want to spend time with, I can be a guy that Ben would call a friend.

And it's too much to take; these two sides of myself fighting it out inside. My thoughts are jumbled, unclear, and I can't make sense of anything.

There are stretches of time where I don't even know who I am, or where.

I wish I could've lived my life without ever making mistakes. I would always know what was right and what was wrong, what to do when no one else had any idea.

A kind world with no anxiety or fear. Where the only path to follow was the one that led to happiness. A world where I could never be hurt, and never hurt anyone else.

Everything I've ever done has been for myself. I only cared about my own atonement. Me and my stupid problems always came first.

I'm just an angry kid let off his leash.

I'm a dog chasing cars; I wouldn't know what to do with one if I caught it.

I know that sometimes, you never get the chance to apologize. You never get the chance to make amends.

I knew that, but…

If I'm just going to repeat the same mistakes again and again, how is that any different from not knowing at all?

I can pretend I never knew. It's all I can do to protect myself; the only thing I know how to do.

All I can do is succumb to my own madness.

* * *

_Gwen, in the back of the Rustbucket:_

I've always prided myself in my strength. Whenever things went bad, I was always counted on to be sure and steady, and keep everyone calm and in line.

So Ben can never see me like this.

Curled up with my knees pulled to my chest, crying my eyes out, I isolate myself in the back of the ship. Kevin's ship. He named it the Rustbucket.

A sob nearly chokes me as I try to silence it. I don't want Ben to hear.

Why did it have to turn out like this?

Kevin had changed. He was a new man, _my_ Kevin.

His focused onyx eyes that would burn with such intensity; I may never see those eyes again.

His crooked grin, whether it be smug or suggestive or sincere, I never realized how much I loved seeing it, or hearing his mocking laughter.

Kevin had been such a good person; I loved who he had become. So why did this have to happen? Why did he have to be so stupid? He must have known the consequences of absorbing the Omnimatrix.

He must have known he would lose himself.

I wish I knew what he had been thinking; why he would do such a dangerous thing. Was it to save us from Aggregor? Was it to save the universe? Or was it for the blinding power he would hold?

I'm jolted from my stupor with a sound from the front of the ship, and I wipe my tears away quickly.

Footsteps pass by the door, but don't stop, and I'm alone again.

It doesn't help that I'm sitting in the same place I was when Kevin had kissed me so sweetly, that day when Aggregor had the first piece of the Map of Infinity.

But Aggregor was no longer a problem, was he?

"_It might not be a bad idea to keep an eye on me," _

Kevin's words suddenly come back to me, and I'm appalled that I didn't make the connection before.

"_I'm not exactly trustworthy."_

Kevin, what were you thinking? Come back to me, please…

The tears spill over again, the memories of that boy filling my heart and mind.

I'd never realized how big a part he played in our lives. His prints were everywhere, on the Rustbucket, on my hands, in my home and in his car. The empty pilot's seat was hard to look at; I can't imagine what it would feel like to watch his car collect dust in the garage.

The truth of the matter was, Kevin's absence left a hole in my life. Not a minute went by that I didn't think of him.

Was it selfish to want him by my side? Surely, the universe would forgive me for being selfish, just this once. I want him here; I need him.

And to get Kevin back, I may have to destroy him first.

The question is: am I willing to?

* * *

**AN: **I only got one review for the last chapter; it seems that the one's I'm most proud of are the ones that are least appreciated. But hopefully this one will get more love, even though I like it less. (This was less of a story and more of a ramble...) ^^ Review, please!


	8. Protecting You With All I've Got

**AN: **FLUFF! I warn you, I'm terrible at action scenes. Everything is…choppy. Feel free to give me scathing reviews or, more well-received, advice on the matter. Thanks. Alien Force setting, back in Highbreed times for simplicity's sake. (Ahh, the good ol days!)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ben 10, Scooby-Doo, or Scare Tactics, though I love them all dearly. Kevin does seem like he'd watch Scare Tactics, huh? Neither do I own Leg-Os or Cheerios. (Why do I use so many copyrighted things in my stories?)

**Every Step Is For You**

**Protecting You With All I've Got**

* * *

DNAlien numbers were up in the triple digits, meaning there had to be at least two Highbreeds in the horde. I was scared – just a little! – but more than that, I was uber-pissed. They were making me miss Scare Tactics.

"Swampfire!" Ben's guttural call – why he always insisted on calling out his alien's made-up name when he changed into it is beyond me – sounded from behind, and I took it as the A-Ok.

Growling through my teeth, I charged, bracing my concrete armor for impact. I rammed into the first two DNAliens, smacking them aside by swinging both arms out. I grabbed the next one with one hand, spinning it in a wide circle before letting go and sending it flying across the warehouse.

After that, I just kept punching. Avoid some sticky vomit here, sidestep a poorly aimed right cross there, standard stuff. Honestly, DNAliens weren't hard to beat. If there weren't so many, I would've gotten bored. But there were a lot. A lot-a lot. I wish I had different words to describe how many there were, but all I can say is that it seemed endless.

And I was getting tired.

When my concrete armor crumbled off, I absorbed a steel support beam instead. But the bad thing about a metal covering was that it made me slower. I mean, hey! It was still metal, and it was still heavy.

So that's my excuse, because at one point – directly after slamming alien head into the wall, I gotta say – I turned around and got a face full of goop.

Not Goop, just goop. Yellowish-green, sticky, stinky, DNAlien barf. It stuck to my eyes, forcing them shut, and I could barely breathe through the layer over my nose; I didn't dare open my mouth.

Blindly, I lashed out and punched whatever was in front of me. My metal fist sank into something wet and squishy, what I could only assume was another DNAlien's mouth. Sloppy tentacles wrapped wetly around my arm. As if I wasn't grossed out enough.

Suddenly, the alien was thrust forcefully away, tentacle slipping away with a disgusting gloppy sound.

With a 'shing!' and a 'pop!' – sound was all I had to tell by – I could breathe again.

I looked up to see my savior hovering on a disc of pink manna, trying to keep a smile from curling at the edges of her full lips.

Gwen.

I flashed her a grin, yelling "I totally had 'em!" up toward her vantage point.

She smiled, which is what I'd been aiming for, and replied, "I'll remember that next time," before zooming away again to zap some more baddies.

I like making her smile. I also like making her mad, which is probably another reason why our relationship isn't going very far.

The first and foremost reason being: because I won't let it. God knows I want to, but I've got no right to take Gwen down with me. I mean, she's _perfect_. Smart, beautiful, compassionate, strong; she's everything anyone could ever want as anything. A perfect daughter, student, friend, and basic member of society.

I'm the exact opposite, but I'm not gonna stand here doing the woe-is-me dance.

Come to think of it, I should probably be focusing on the fight.

Descending back to earth, I turned my head, finding a DNAlien standing casually next to me. He turned his head and looked back at me curiously, tentacles doing a little wiggle, as if he was waving hello. Weirdo.

"Hi, ugly." I jibed. Then I punched him in the face.

It went on like that for a while. I don't know how long the battle lasted, but I was wiped. I'd changed armor about three times already, and banking on a fourth. I had no idea where Gwen was, the Omnitrix was probably about ready to time out, and it felt like we barely made a dent in the ranks.

Lucky for me, I hadn't run into a Highbreed yet. Nasty things.

Of course, I just had to jinx myself.

And it had to happen at the worst possible time.

My third shell of armor was crumbling, falling off in chunks, and I was searching around for another surface to absorb, trying to avoid blows from the aliens that surrounded me.

"Kevin!" Gwen was calling my name. Was she in trouble? Like a dog at the call of its master, I perked up, looking over the heads of DNAliens for the familiar redhead.

I found her, fending off a small pack with a thick pink shield. She looked like she could handle it, why-

Even from the distance, I could see her green eyes fill with horror. "Look out!"

Oh, it was **me** who was in trouble. Typical. Leave it to Kevin Levin to be your damsel in distress.

I spun around, but only caught a glimpse of bright white and orange before pain exploded in the side of my head, the world melting into black.

* * *

My head hurt.

I was laying on a hard surface, on my stomach. My face felt sore, squished flat against the floor, and I could tell without seeing that my armor was totally gone.

Finally, I opened my eyes to harsh white light, and a groan escaped my throat. I had an awful headache, so bad I felt sick to my stomach. There was no way I was going to barf, though, at least not without checking out what was around me first.

Forcefully, I pushed myself into a sitting position, taking in my blinding surroundings. I was in some kind of white box, a single barred window at my height on one wall. The light was coming from circular fluorescents on the ceiling; pretty cheap for alien tech.

I swiveled to look behind me, and my heart wrenched when I recognized the limp form on the floor. I don't know how she got captured, but it was probably my fault.

I crawled to Gwen's side, the distance too short to bother standing up, and shook her shoulders gently.

"Gwen! Wake up, hey! Gwen!" I wiped away the strands of fiery hair that were slung in her face, patting her cheek as a last resort to gain her attention.

"Gwen!"

"Ugh…Kevin?" she stirred, cat-green eyes fluttering open as she came back to consciousness. "Mm…my head hurts." She complained, squeezing her eyes shut again.

I huffed a half-hearted laugh, stroking her cheek with my thumb. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

Suddenly, Gwen sat up, green eyes flying wide open and red hair falling again into her face. I barely had time to snatch my arms away to keep from hitting her in the face.

"Ben! We have to get back to Ben!" she said, her voice tight and urgent.

A part of me was annoyed. Not only did Ben ruin the atmosphere when he was here, but now he was doing it by not being here. I was perfectly comfortable holding and consoling a groggy Gwen.

A bigger part of me concentrated on the mission and slowing Gwen down long enough for her to tell me what happened.

She was over by the single window, standing on her tiptoes to look out.

"Wait, Gwen, what happened? Where's Ben?" I demanded, noticing my voice take on that 'don't screw with me' tone that always got me in trouble with her.

This time, though, it was well-received.

"They've got him!" she explained, expression hardening. "After you went down" – I felt a tingle of shame at that – "the Highbreeds ganged up on Ben, and they grabbed you both and took you on the ship. I tried to sneak on with the DNAliens and rescue you two, but…"

"Let me guess," I interrupted, raising my eyebrow. Queen of stealth Gwen may be, but master of disguise she is not.

Gwen sighed. "I got caught."

"Obviously," I replied. This earned me a glare, but I just waved my hand for her to continue.

"They took Ben somewhere else, and I don't know what they're going to do to him. We're obviously for some other purpose."

I crossed my arms, feeling by brow furrow as I thought. "Alien slave trade, live bait, execution; pick your favorite." I offered unhelpfully.

Gwen shot me a look. It was usually used as the 'don't joke around, Kevin, this is a serious situation' look, but I was actually being serious there. We were probably in for a long flight.

"We need to find a way out of here," she said instead, glancing back toward the window as her eyes began to glow pink.

I avoided saying 'duh'. It wasn't gonna help.

* * *

The ceiling was low enough for me to touch with no problem, the walls only a foot or so longer than my armspan. Not much to work with.

We searched over the entire room, looking for secret passages or tunnels, like something straight out of Scooby-Doo. I tried absorbing the walls, and Gwen tried breaking them down, but neither of our powers worked on it. I didn't know what kind of matter it was, but it freaked me out. It was weird, not being able to absorb it.

I'd always felt a connection to the things I touched, like an unspoken bond between us. I could absorb it, and it could be absorbed by me. It was a mutual understanding.

These walls were acting stubborn. They didn't make the agreement, and it felt…off.

As I contemplated this, Gwen sank against the wall in what I assumed was defeat.

There was no crying or hysteria, nothing to say that she was worried sick about Ben, and no freaking out about her inability to control our own situation.

But that was the great thing about Gwen. She had her composure, and it took someone who really knew her well to see past it.

I could.

But I wasn't as demure as her. When I knew there was no hope, I fought for it anyway. Maybe I was stubborn, maybe I was stupid, or maybe I just hated the idea of giving up. I'd like to think this tick described me as a man of action; it sounded so much cooler.

I pounded the walls angrily with my fists, pain rippling dully through my knuckles without armor. "Hey! Get us out of here!" I yelled at no one.

Through the bars – made of the same rigid, white material as everything else – I could see a hallway, stamped periodically with identical white rooms. No DNAliens, no Highbreeds, no one in sight. Whatever they were doing with Ben, it must've been popular.

"Let us out, you bastards! Come out and face me! Hey!" I punched the door twice.

"Kevin…"

"Let us out of here! I'll kick your asses!" Three times.

"Kevin!" Gwen's voice was sharp, and I spun around to confront her.

"What? You're giving up?" I demanded, knowing the answer already. I knew it was hopeless. This was all I could do. Sitting down and doing nothing never sat well with me. If I could say I tried everything I could, I would die without regrets. I could say that my best just wasn't good enough.

"Kevin…please." She patted the empty space next to her, green eyes steady. "For me."

Gwen understood me all too well. Sometimes I hated her for that.

My fists tightened angrily. Anger at myself, not at her. I should be able to get us out of this. It was my fault to begin with. "Gwen, I can't just sit there and do nothing!" I yelled.

She didn't flinch. She knew me. "I know." Again, she patted the floor.

I sat down. Damn, this girl had me good.

I curled and uncurled the fists in my lap, glaring at my scuffed knuckles as if they had done me a personal wrong. I was itching to get up and try to break that door down, with or without armor. Ben needed us. Gwen needed me. I had to be able to get us out of this, I had to!

Gwen's soft hand snaked over, squeezing my fingers gently. I looked over to her, displaying the desperation in my features. I envied the calm atmosphere she emanated, like she knew everything would be okay.

"Kevin, it's useless-"

"Don't tell me that."

I looked back down at my lap, but got an eyeful of her hand holding mine. I squeezed my eyes shut, concentrating on the pain in my head to drown her out.

It didn't work.

"Kevin…" her tone was gentle, scolding, like a mother who caught her kid putting Leg-Os in the Cheerio box for the third time.

"What do you want me to say, Gwen?" I blurted out, slamming the back of my head into the wall, eyes still closed. "There's gotta be a way! It's just a stupid wall! I should be able to get us out of this! I have to!"

I could feel Gwen's eyes on my face. "Why?" she asked almost in a whisper. "It's not your fault. You don't have to-"

"Yeah, I do, Gwen!" I shouted, finally bringing myself to look her in the face. She looked a little irritated and confused, but if I didn't pay such close attention I probably wouldn't be able to tell.

"It's my job to protect you, alright? I've **got **to." My ears were burning, but I held her gaze, watching with fascination as various emotions crossed over her face. Shocked, confused, then touched, and finally disagreeable.

"Kevin…"

There came that 'mom' tone again.

"I won't be able to live with myself if I don't keep trying, Gwen." I interrupted her, though my voice was a litter calmer. "If this is the end of the line for us, then…" I gritted my teeth, obstinate that it wouldn't be. I wouldn't let it be.

Gwen's hand squeezed mine again, this time to gain my attention. When I opened my eyes to look at her, she was staring right back, green eyes stern and lips set in a firm line.

"Protecting me doesn't always mean you have to be strong. Right now, if you want to protect me…just stay here. Don't do anything stupid." Her eyes were pleading with me, I realized, and I felt a little tug in my chest. She just wanted me _here_.

After what felt like a lifetime, I turned away. "Whatever."

A second later, I felt her lean against my shoulder. My heart did a little river dance, and I felt my face heat up a bit. Still, I managed to turn my hand around to lace her fingers with mine. Her hands were damp, revealing the worry she had to be feeling. I heard her sigh, as if she had been holding her breath the entire time.

I kinda got what she meant now.

While half of me wanted to be shouting and beating up the walls just to say I did, the other half wanted to sit here with Gwen for as long as we both had left together.

Damn, it was cheesy. But cheese is a good source of calcium.

* * *

**AN:** Let me know if anyone wants there to be a sequel to this chapter, detailing their escape. Review, please! Every single one gives me the warm fuzzies! And when I get the warm fuzzies, I write Gwevin! =3


	9. Can't Pass Up an Argument

**AN: **I wanted to get this up yesterday, but we all know that stuff that makes sense at 2am isn't always as good in the light of the morning. XD  
Post-Absolute Power(Which was pretty damn awesome, by the way). I wrote up a storm! Kevin's apologies. WARNING: SPOILERS FOR FINALE!

**Disclaimer:** I own Ben 10 even less than Michael Morningstar owns Kevin's power. (If you're laughing, you've seen the end of Absolute Power. If you're not, you probably haven't.)

**Every Step Is For You**

**Can't Pass Up an Argument**

**

* * *

**

It was below a crescent moon that we sat, the gentle breeze soothing against my skin as it danced playfully with my ponytail.

Pressing my palms against the sandpaper shingles, I leaned back to take deep breaths of the cool, crisp air. The night was cold, but I didn't feel it. His warmth was there beside me, sustaining.

Kevin was back, my Kevin. He was back by my side and back in his right mind and back in his own skin.

He was _mine_ again, even though I'd almost lost him. Even though he'd been so far gone.

Being here with him now, in such a peaceful moment, gave me an indescribable feeling.

I don't know what to call it – happiness? No, it was stronger than that. Love? Too generic. But it was something that bubbled in my head and squirmed in my gut and sent my heart beating right out of my chest.

Whatever it was, it compelled me to lean into Kevin's shoulder, taking his warmth as my own.

Beneath my back, I could feel him stiffen, then relax as he snuck his arm around me. Kevin.

He said he didn't want to go home yet; that he wasn't ready to face his mom and Harvey yet.

I grabbed the hand that draped over my shoulder, studying it silently.

It wasn't the icy claw of Diamondhead and Lodestar, or the huge green fist of Swampfire. It was Kevin's hand; pale and human and warm.

The comfortable silence was finally broken when Kevin cleared his throat, the sound making his chest rumble ever so slightly.

I tilted by head back to look at him quizzically, seeing the way his mouth was set in a low frown, eyebrows scrunched together nervously.

His dark eyes met mine for a moment before pulling away again. "Gwen, uh...now that we're alone, I...Well, I mean...Ben was right, I need to-"

"Kevin, just spit it out, please?"

"I'm sorry."

My eyebrows rose a few inches on my forehead. First Kevin apologized to Ben, and now to me? Maybe he wasn't back to normal. Even though I didn't blame him for what he had done, it was nice to hear him apologize. Can you blame me for milking it a little? I just wanted to hear him say it.

"For what?"

"For wha-? For-for all that I've done!" he spluttered, eyes wide with incredulity. "For losin' control like that and causin' so much trouble!"

I sighed, tucking my legs under me and twisting to look my boyfriend in the eye. "Kevin, it's fine."

_The important thing is, you're back. You're okay. You're alive._

"It's _not _fine, Gwen!" he shouted, interrupting me. My eyelashes fluttered for a moment, perplexed and searching for words.

Kevin continued his rant, growing more and more upset as he did so. "I hurt you! I hurt Ben! I almost killed everyone! I was...I was the freakin' antivillain, Gwen! How can you say it's fine when it wasn't? It was hell! I made it hell! How can you just say you're_ fine_ with it?"

His face was flushed with anger, the breeze playing with strands of his hair and blowing them into his eyes.

"Kevin...it wasn't your fault. That wasn't you," I explained as calmly as possible. "And everyone is okay now. No one blames you for what you did, not even the Plumbers. You didn't know what you were doing."

"Yeah I did! I knew exactly what I was doing the whole time!"

Is this what he was caught up on? Did he think he really wanted to do all those things? He'd _changed._

"Kevin, that wasn't you!"

"I'm not two different people, Gwen! That was all me! That's just the me that doesn't hold anything back," He explained, voice cracking on the last syllable.

"Kevin..." I took his hands, feeling for him in every way possible. "It doesn't matter. It's you, this Kevin, that's the real you. This is the one that I like, the one that Ben would forgive, and the one that your parents would be proud of. Okay? This is you."

He looked at me doubtfully, and opened his mouth to say something, looking like he was going to disagree again. I wasn't going to let him; I was going to get this through his thick skull if it killed us both.

Slapping my hand over Kevin's mouth, I narrowed my eyes in a stern glare. "Kevin Ethan Levin, do _not_ argue with me." I ordered sternly.

His dark brows furrowed, but he didn't try to say anything and I thought it safe to remove my hand. The other was still twining fingers with him.

He didn't pull away, but his eyes did, staring out toward the demolished remains of the Rustbucket.

Heartbeats of silence passed us by, until, for the second time, Kevin's husky voice broke it.

"You always gotta be right, huh?"

I whipped my head around, preparing a sharp remark. But he was grinning.

It felt good to see that smile again.

Kevin reached for me, his large hand cupping my cheek and neck, and tugged me closer. Without hesitating, I brought my lips to meet his, tasting the warmth that was more intoxicating than a cup of hot chocolate.

Maybe I got through to him, just a little. Maybe Kevin was starting to heal.

I smiled into his lips, leaning eagerly into the kiss and wrapping my arms around his neck as his enveloped my neck and waist.

It didn't matter about the past or what could have happened. Right now, we were in the present, and the present was feeling pretty good.

**

* * *

**

**AN: **If you hadn't guessed, they were on Gwen's roof. I tried to make this more fluffy, but...it ended up a little angsty. I'm sorry.  
Since it's the end of the fic, I thought I would discuss the finale a bit. From beginning to middle, it was completely amazing. The dialogue was strong, the emotions real, the fights incredible (Though they might have overused the line 'I'm sorry I had to do this to you, Kevin'). The ending was a little cliché, but I suppose it can afford to be. And Darkstar's epic fail? Priceless. As for Cooper...eh, I would've preferred he stay little and chubby forever. Notice how much he looks like Kevin? Though knowing Cooper, that might have been on purpose for Gwen's attention. And we got a really nice kiss and some Bevin bromance! Needless to say, I am quite satisfied, even though the secrets revealed within totally blew my first two chapters out of the water. XP Oh well, that's why they're fanfictions. Team Kevin!**  
**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!  
Thanks for reading!


	10. O'er The Stare

**AN: **Warning: Character death. This chapter was borne from a recent personal experience, and the imagery that plagued my mind at that moment could not be passed up. So...here we are. The gang is in their mid-late thirties. If anyone can tell me how I came upon this title, I will be much impressed.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ben 10 or the Goodwill (Does anyone?).

**Every Step Is For You**

**O'er The Stare**

* * *

Snow was no longer falling, but the sky remained a dense, dark grey; too intense to be described as a dove's wings and too uniform to compare to downy cotton. It was grey. Grey like wet rock or steel wool.

Sometimes, it was uncanny how the weather could match the mood.

Did the words even matter? They washed over me like so much water, weaving around my obstruction but never soaking into my skin. Meaningless.

Words could never bring him back, and they didn't provide any comfort coming from a man who knew him not.

This man didn't know how he lived, what he'd done for the world and the entire universe and for _us_. He didn't know how great a man he really was, though he kept repeating the phrase as if he, too, had lost someone important. He didn't know anything, and I wanted to stand up in my seat and shout; scream obscenities and demand that someone more qualified take the stand. With the circumstances, I think I could get away with it. This man didn't know how he had lived, only how he had died.

Yet I held my tongue, and the service droned on. Words to praise him turned to praise of a more holy nature, though I knew he had never been a religious man.

A few people sniffed. I heard some tissues being wrestled from various pockets, and one person in the back blew their nose loudly.

I had no urge to cry. Not in front of all these people. I was the one that was meant to be strong, and it was a role I was determined to play out.

The wind picked up suddenly, racing around cold stone graves and through the open side of the tent. Devlin shivered beside me and snuggled a little closer, unusually affectionate today for a boy his age.

The snow sat in patches upon the frozen ground, ice formed on the surface where it hadn't been disturbed by trodding feet. It wasn't beautiful, like the graveyard might have been if the snow had completed its trek upon the earth.

"Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, and dust to dust."

I stood up with Devlin clinging to my hand, falling into line behind Ben's parents. The snow crunched under my heels and in the pairs of heavy boots that followed, teeth-grindingly loud in the silence.

Silent as the grave.

My dad was crying – something else I barely saw; not since my wedding day – as he and my mother finished at the coffin and moved back to their seats.

I had never seen a dead body before, not really. Especially not someone I knew; not family.

I took a deep breath and looked painfully down at the still face of Grandpa Max.

I thought that maybe, seeing him now, here, would drive the point of his death home. But my heart continued to beat steadily, my eyes dry and breathing easy. Would I ever accept it?

He looked so different. His face was thinner, loose folds of unnaturally pale skin hanging back under his chin. His eyes were closed, never to twinkle with that mischievous laughter that he had always seemed too old for. He was unreal, so unlike the man I had known my entire life. It could so easily be a wax doll in this coffin, hands folded together at the waist, instead of my grandfather.

But it _was _him. Why didn't that scare me like it should?

"The old man kinda looks like he's smiling, don'tcha think?" came the whisper in my ear, my husband's arm simultaneously coming around to rest on my waist.

It was true. His thin, still lips were curved up ever so slightly, as if he was happy. Still happy in death as he was in life. It had been his choice, after all, to take out his breathing tube in the end. I guess he felt he'd done all he could in this life.

Even though I didn't feel like it, I smiled, too, for Kevin's sake and for Devlin's, who was avoiding looking toward the casket at all.

Feeling as if I couldn't speak or, rather, couldn't without saying something I wanted no one to hear, I leaned forward to press my lips against Grandpa Max's powdery cheek.

His skin was startlingly cold and paper-thin; nothing like the man had been when he was alive.

His warmth, his love, was gone.

How different death was. It wasn't just a stilled heart or a useless body. The spirit, the soul, or the _essence_ of him – whatever made Grandpa Max who he was – was gone. This was only the body he used to get around in.

And, of course, _she _was here too.

As I sank down into the felt-covered chair beneath me, I couldn't get my mind off that woman, for some reason, even though I should have expected that she'd be here. It was the expression on her face that had caught me.

Heartbroken. Wretched. Despaired.

She still loved him so much, after all this time. And what was I doing? Forcing myself to be stony-faced to keep up appearances. To keep my pride and be strong for my family.

No, not for them. All for me.

_Pow!_

Gunfire pierced the air once, twice, three times. To the people here who knew not what Grandpa Max really did, these men were Marines, here to honor Max for his services to the country. We knew differently; these were Plumbers. Plumbers who would have rather held the ceremony at their base; to give the highest honor to the legendary man.

But of course, Grandpa Max would have insisted to be buried on Earth.

The American flag was folded and handed to my father, and, slowly, the casket began to lower down into the ground.

And still I could not let myself cry.

I looked to the left; my father was weeping silently, hugging the triangular flag to his chest as my mother held him, glittering tears trailing down her own cheeks.

Ben's parents were equally subdued, but my aunt buried her face in her husband's jacket while he watched his father being buried; more tears.

Devlin was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He had cried when the news first came in, but seemed to have already accepted it. The beautiful simplicity of youth was something I very much missed.

I looked to the right; Ben and Julie were in a close embrace, faces hidden from me, sniffling children held in their laps.

Kevin was staring at the coffin with his jaw tightly clenched, lips pressed in a thin line. As I watched, his Adam's apple bobbed dangerously, eyes shining with...could it be?

But they did not fall. He was trying to be strong, too. But he was doing it for Devlin and I, I knew. That's the kind of man Kevin was. He was waiting, ready, here to support me.

If only I needed it. If only I didn't have the audacity to take care of myself. If only I could let myself be protected.

My eyes switched to the descending casket, recalling Grandpa Max's still body and Grandma Verdona's devastated features.

_He's dead. He's dead, Gwen. He's not coming back. That is his body, but not his spirit. He's going away forever now. The Rustbucket will be sold. His clothes will be sent to Goodwill. His will is going to be read, giving away the rest of what had only belonged to him. He's dead._

_Dead._

The mechanism that lowered the coffin sputtered to a stop suddenly and gave a massive groan, and I could feel the crowd draw a collective breath. Would the dearly departed be dropped six feet down into a hole?

_Dead._

A few tense seconds held before the casket continued, less smoothly.

_Dead._

And, for some reason, it was then that I cracked.

I can't tell you how the rest of the ceremony went, because I spent the remainder of it weeping into Kevin's coat, Devlin burying his own face into mine.

I had the audacity to stand on my own, but I didn't need to anymore.

We still visit the grave every year, not on the anniversary of his death, but on his birthday. Grandpa Max would have liked that; a celebration of his life instead of a mourning. He would want us to remember that one fantastic summer and the years that followed; fighting side-by-side with him for the good of the universe; remember our very first memories of being held and the first time we tasted his god-awful cooking.

And every time we came, without fail, a silver Manna Lily was already there, waiting.

Then a few more years passed, and the flowers stopped appearing.

* * *

**AN: **Tee hee...for the first few paragraphs, how many of you thought it was Kevin who had died? :D I'm sorry, don't kill me. I love Grandpa Max.  
Also, I recently read an updated version of Kevin's Wiki page that revealed where Kevin really got the padlock that he wore in Ben 10 (From a bike that he stole when he ran away). So there's another of my chapters blown out of the water. :( :D :(  
So I wrote and re-wrote and re-wrote the ending again and again, but I could never make it sound just right. It was quite a hassle, also, to keep the somber mood going. I kept accidentally typing humor in it, if that makes sense. '~' But in any case, I think it turned out alright. Tell me what you think! I won't hassle you for reviews, but know that I read and appreciate every single one, even if I don't reply.  
Readers are my bread; without you I would have no sustenance.  
Reviewers are my butter; without you nothing would taste as good.

Thanks for reading! Please review!


	11. An Essay Concerning Human Understanding

**AN: **Tada! I'm actually not dead (Hopefully that's good news). But now you see why I'm reluctant to write a true-and-true series. I'd be one of those people who doesn't update for...let's see...eight months? Heh. I'd blame it on my laptop breaking, but that can only account for the last three or four months. I finally managed to get it working long enough to salvage my half-finished oneshots and etcetera onto a junk drive, and so here I am! This fluffy thing was inspired by a piece of fanart by the very talented deviantartist kitsune999; it's called 'The weight of culture.' if you want to find it. ^^ Early Ultimate Alien setting.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ben 10 or kitsune999's art. -.- I only wish...

**Every Step Is For You**

**An Essay Concerning Human Understanding**

* * *

I've been going to Gwen's house a lot more often these days. Probably because we're actually, finally dating now. No more patchwork skin or alien takeovers or Charmcaster...charming-ness...between us.

Sometimes I just randomly show up to hang out. She'll sometimes act like she's annoyed with me for dropping by out of the blue, but she's never told me to stop coming.

Gwen has a psychology test tomorrow – a big one. I knew she had to study today.

I came anyway.

Without bothering to knock, I slipped in through the front door, out of the pitter-pattering rain that was going on outside. They never locked their door when they were home; something you could never do in my neighborhood.

Shutting the polished wood firmly behind me, I stepped inside. My grey hoodie was pockmarked with little drops of rain, collected from the quick sprint from my car to the porch, and I tugged it off over my head, hanging it up on the nearby coat rack. My shoes I left by the door; something I'd learned that you were way better off doing in this Tennyson household.

Gwen was upstairs, I was sure of it. I could hear the gentle tapping of her feet above my head; too light to be her dad and too quiet to be her mom. The fact that she knew I was here, however; hadn't slipped my mind.

The corners of my mouth twitched up in an involuntary way, tugging a grin to my face as I stepped into the living room on heavy feet. Without a second thought I turned on my heel and fell backwards into the couch with a 'thump'!

Above, I heard her pause, then walk down the stairs. I shifted to take over the whole couch, setting my feet against one armrest and propping my arms up behind my head against the other. Gwen appeared in the doorway, already looking my way.

My girlfriend's fiery hair was down, gliding down her back and around her shoulders in a weightless way that only intensified the look of her green eyes as they stared, narrowed dangerously, at me.

Her hands were on her hips and her lips were pursed; never a good sign. A thin, burgundy book was clutched in her right hand, a pair of wire-rimmed designer glasses pushed through her locks like a headband; she was a girl prepared to do some serious cramming.

"Kevin, I need to study. I told you that," she said sternly, using the 'mom' tone that I only ever really got from her.

Alright, it was clearly time to explain my presence. But I didn't really have a reason; I just wanted to see her.

But instead, I told her, "Yeah, you did. I'm not stoppin' you."

She turned her head doubtfully, eyes flicking around my face as if looking for an ulterior motive. I didn't blame her; I nearly always had one.

Her jaw clenched, and I knew an argument was coming. "Get up, Kevin. I have to sit on the couch."

"Why?" I closed my eyes, trying to look innocent and relaxed at the same time. Not sure I pulled it off.

"I always study on the couch."

"OCD, much?"

"Kevin, that's not even what-!" Gwen cut off with an exasperated sigh, and I could picture her pinching the bridge of her nose. She was reaching the end of her patience, and I wondered what would happen after that.

"Fine,"

...Okay, her backing down was unexpected, but I didn't move.

At least, not until a significant weight plopped suddenly down on my stomach.

A surprised puff of air escaping my lips, I curled up a little, eyes flying open in shock. I met Gwen's amused green gaze, her full lips pursing in a smug pout; she was sitting on my stomach, both legs poised over my right side to brace her heels on the edge of the couch.

"...but I'm still sitting on the couch." Gwen pulled down her reading glasses to rest on her nose, cracking open the textbook to a page near the front.

Okay, this wasn't so bad. Gwen wasn't heavy at all, and it definitely wasn't unpleasant to have her sit on me. I was a bit impressed, actually. It was rare for Gwen to act so...well, coy.

"And I'll pretend that it bothers me," I replied smoothly, not even trying to hide the grin on my face.

She glanced at me once, from the corner of her eye, her mouth curving in the tiniest of accidental smiles, before concentrating back on her psychology book.

I reclined back onto the couch, propping my arms under my head comfortably.

It was nice knowing that she didn't really mind me being here, even though we weren't doing anything.

After a few minutes, I heard Gwen's voice again, mumbling strings of vocabulary under her breath. I opened up one eye quizzically to look at her.

"Maintenance rehearsal...maintenance rehearsal...maintenance rehearsal..." She was leaning her head back, eyes closed as she tested herself without the book's help.

I probably shouldn't have laughed, but...y'know. I'm me.

Gwen blinked and open her eyes to shoot me an irritated look. "What?"

"Heh...nothin'."

Gwen sighed, looking down her nose at me or, more specifically, over the top of her glasses. This gave her a very teacher-y appearance, like she was about to give me detention or something.

_Good times, good times..._

"Kevin, I really need to get an A on this test-"

"Which you will."

"-_and if you're going to distract me..._" Gwen trailed off pointedly, enunciating every word.

I leaned toward her with a grin, unable to resist the joke. "Am I distracting?"

Her pursed lips slowly twisted into a tiny grin, so I knew I wasn't really in trouble. She turned back to her book almost shyly, a lock of hair escaping from behind her ear and hiding her face. Gwen swept it back impatiently and smiled at me again. "You know, you can watch TV, as long as you keep the volume down," she offered, obviously wanting to keep me entertained while she studied.

I smiled back, breathing deeply to watch her sway with my movement. "No need. I'm totally fine sitting here doing nothing."

_As long as it's with you._

* * *

**AN: **Pssh, I'm no good at meaningless fluff. But at least I updated! That counts for something, right? :D *crickets* Right?  
Anywayzle, did anyone sense the irony of Gwen's vocabulary? :D Like a true nerd, I think it's hilarious.

Thanks for reading, and please review!


	12. Loving Your Imperfections

**AN: **I sorta set myself up for this one with the seventh chapter, Kevin talking about Gwen's pristine perfection. I tried to fit the idea of this in there, and then decided it would be better served in a story of its own. WARNING: EXTREME FLUFF (at least for me)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ben 10. …nor PAC-Man. Does anyone even own that anymore?

**Every Step Is For You**

**Loving Your Imperfections**

* * *

It's embarrassing, the hold she has on me. She doesn't even have to try.

I am completely, irreversibly, and prematurely whipped.

She's mesmerizing; the way she moves, the way she speaks, the way she _exists. _One little twitch of her fingers or polite little cough, and my eyes are immediately on her. I'm drawn to her, hypnotized by her, completely taken by her.

And I have a feeling that, sometimes, she knows it.

Sometimes, I don't care. I want her to know. I want her to know how I feel about her, how much she drives me crazy in her presence and in her absence, how good I feel just standing at her side.

She's beautiful. Her long, fiery hair and the way it blows in the wind; her bright green eyes that can either be soft and gentle as feathers or harsh and cutting as a knife; her slender frame and her full lips and the poised way she holds herself; it all makes me so insane.

She's compassionate, to the point of being naïve, but never gullible. Nothing gets past her.

She's smart, at least compared to me and Ben. She's the one who always knows what she's doing; always confident and sure.

She's perfect, she's amazing, and God knows I don't deserve her. No man in the universe does.

I hate to say it. I really, really hate to say it. It's so cheesy, so mushy and wimpy that I can hardly even bear to _think_ it. I really wish there are other words, better words, cooler words, to express the way I feel about Gwen Tennyson.

But there aren't, at least none that I know of.

So I'll say it:

I love her.

I frigging love her.

I realize now that the pedestal I put her on, the way I worshiped her from afar without ever putting myself in the picture, was how I protected myself.

I know I've got a lot of issues, I know I've got a lot of growing up to do, and I know I'm barely a better guy than any other villain you can name. Somewhere, I'm still that rough 'n tough kid who stole quarters from a PAC-Man machine. But that's not it.

Whenever I thought I wanted to have her, that I wanted her to be mine and mine only, I would think, _I'm not good enough for her, _or, _she deserves better. _I threw my own pity party to avoid…what?

I wanted her, I still want her, and I won't act like I don't.

What was it about us being on the same level, her being within my reach, that scared me out of my mind?

It might just be a typical guy thing, like a fear of commitment or whatever.

But I think that I needed her to be unreachable; to be the perfection that was just my opposite. Thinking that she could be down in the penny seats with me, car grease on her face and sweat on her brow, was impossible.

It was selfish. I'm so selfish.

If I'd thought about her feelings even once…things might be so different.

The way she tries to crack the most terrible jokes, how she gets annoyed with her parents like everyone else, when her hair gets frizzy in the rain and the way she gets so _girlish_ sometimes; it's the best part of her, in some ways. Just when I think she's got absolutely no flaws, she screams at the sight of a spider or gets angry at me for being a jerk; or she cries.

I've only seen her cry once, and I hope it never happens again. When I saw the tears turning her eyes dull and bloodshot, trickling bitterly down her cheeks and dripping down her chin, I found myself wanting to protect her above all costs. I wanted to change her world so she would never have to cry again.

A girl like Gwen Tennyson; she makes it seem like she doesn't need to be cared for or sheltered from anything, because she can take care of herself better than anyone else I know.

But she's still just a girl; she's still just sixteen. The same way she was lost when her grandpa went missing, just like anyone else, she needs people, even if she won't admit it. When Verdona tried to convince her to go to Anodyne, she didn't want the responsibility to choose, or all the sympathy she got from everyone. She wanted someone to tip the scales and make the decision for her; to be that last pro or con that would do what she was too afraid to do, and keep her here with us. I might not have known it then, but I was the only one who was honest enough to give her what she really needed.

Gwen isn't perfect. She's human...mostly. She's got feelings and impulses and insecurities, just like any other teenage girl.

I guess she's just better at hiding it. But I think that it was after I saw through her that I stopped idolizing her, and started really, really, liking her. 'Loving' her, whatever. I'm still not comfortable with that. It doesn't really seem to fit. Maybe it's too late for that.

'The best thing that ever happened to me'; that sounds better, but it's a mouthful. I feel so much better when I'm around her; I feel normal. When she's around, it's so much easier to be the guy she wants me to be; the one that _I _want to be. And it's not because I think she's perfect. I think it's because...she's Gwen.

Her being Gwen, just Gwen, is more than enough for me, and way more than I deserve.

* * *

It wasn't as if I wasn't aware of him before; it was kind of difficult not to be when he's a walking alien quilt. But when we met again...almost immediately I was _aware _of him.

Maybe it was something chemical, or a cliched electricity to warn us about how we would one day feel; perhaps we were just reminded of something that had already started.

It's hard to believe Kevin is that same scrawny, homicidal orphan from New York, especially when he's showing his good side.

I like that side; he's funny, albeit cynical; smart, albeit unconventionally; handsome, albeit in a rakish way.

That's a lot of exceptions to his good qualities, but it never put me off for very long. I quite quickly grew to laugh at his mocking humor, be impressed at his vast stores of knowledge, and admire his striking looks.

Kevin is not the type of guy that makes a great first impression; he's immature, cruel, selfish, and even downright thoughtless at times. But it only goes so deep, and is more than forgivable when you see what an effort he makes at changing.

Half the time, I only see what I want to see. The good parts of him that make me smile are the real Kevin; and the parts I don't like, the ones that scare me, are only temporary misjudgment.

I care about him so much; I daresay I might even love him.

That confuses me; because aren't you supposed to love everything about the person you love? If I don't like something about him, doesn't it mean that we weren't meant to stay together?

Some days, he's unbelievably sweet; affectionate, even, as he kisses my temple or my cheek too suddenly for me to provide a good reaction. Then there are the days where he's a bit more aggressive, and I'm not completely opposed to that, either. But then there's his bad days; days that something must have happened for him to have changed so quickly.

I think it's the nightmares, but I'm too afraid to ask.

It's those times that I shouldn't like him; where I should see how imperfect he is and how far away he is from my ideal boyfriend. But I don't; somehow he pulls me in deeper, because I so desperately want to understand him.

I like to put things in black and white. Either it is, or it isn't. Kevin is nuanced. He's the grey area that I just can't place, which is what makes him so interesting.

This should infuriate me, but I know that I'm happier when I'm with him than with anyone else. When he walks in, the room immediately seems to brighten. I smile easily, and I laugh. He brings out the best in me, I suppose.

I've always tried to be the best person I can be. I want to be kind, generous, and strong all at the same time. I want to be what I've always wanted to be.

Inside, I'm still the ten-year-old girl who would try to control everything, get angry over nothing, and call my cousin a dweeb. I just hide it better now.

I used to wonder...if Kevin ever saw that side of me...how would he react?

If he rejected me...hated me, even...I don't know what I would do. The ugly side of me is hidden for a reason.

But he's seen it. In little bits and pieces, he's seen the me that I've tried to hide; the ugly, imperfect me. And he accepted it; embraced it, even, and I wonder how I could've ever doubted him. Kevin would know only too well about wanting to hide from the person you used to be.

Him loving my imperfections is something I admire, when I myself can't fully accept them.

One day, I'll be as amazing as he is, because Kevin just being his incredibly imperfect self is perfect to me.

* * *

**AN: **Gwen aspiring to be more like Kevin is an interesting thought, no? You have no idea how long this has been sitting in my computer, unfinished. I would go back to it, blank out, and go do something else. It was really hard to end! At least I finished it, though Kevin's part is twice as long as Gwen's. XP Thanks for reading! And...review!


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